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\Z1HTS MBBAOiNG A snaiiis or tbars, 




I ^ 



The following letters have been selected, from 
among several hundred, as most fit for publication. 

The sentiment of filial devotion towards the author, 
which, for many years, constituted a large portion of 
my moral existence, together with the want of criti- 
cal acumen, may so far mislead the judgment, as to 
make mp overrate the merit of these letters. Be that 
as it may, I shall make no apology for giving them to 
the public : neither have they a right to require, nor 
shall they receive, any explanation of motives, that 
may be personal to myself, in making the publica- 

^^B Suffice it to say, that, I think, they will do credit 
^^■d American literature; and add something to the 
^Hptme of a man, who long held a distinguished rank 
^^among American orators, and statesmen; and whose 
genius has added not a little to his country's glory. 







Georgetown, Jan. 31, 190&" 
Mr DEAK Theodore, 

I SESD you by the New Orleans mail, " letters writ- 
ten by the great Mr. Pill, afterwards Earl of Chatham, to 
his nephew, when at college." You know my opinion of 
Lord Chatham: that he was at once the greatest practical 
statesman that erer lived, and the most transceDUenit aralQr. 
'ith all this, he was a truly good man, (indeed, he must 
been, since virtue is essential to great excellence in 
■dable pursuits.) and the most elegaot and polished gen- 
lan of his time. 
When I speak of a practical statesman, I wish you 
understand me. A man may possess great lheQret,ic 
lowledge on any subject, and yet be a poor practitioner, 
take an example from the profession which you seem t9 
'e chosen, in preference to any other, — a man might have 
all the best medical authors by heart, know the treatment 
.which is considered to be most judicious for every disease, 
id the properties of every medicine, so Rs, in conversation, 


10 \xfvimw 

to TIC witlk lAljr^ Am ti^ tMUnilMI Iw fjttMl^ \fUn wT nis plT^' 
fession, and yet ht M wlHtiMl ^piwttitt^ l%¥iltou brought 
to a patieot, lo be unable lo tell wtM Ma it ii tit ^WMS and^oT 
eoune, how it was to hare been treated^ — ^whether the pube 
indicated depletion or atimulantflL Such is the diflference 
between theory and practice; Okie is disease oilpaper, where 
all goes smoothly, and the patient i^/aliiNy recover*: the 
other is disease in the subject of malady, m man himself^ 
where symptoms are complicated, and the yarious conside- 
rations of age, sex, and condition, in the patient, bafie the 
most skilful, and dismay the most experienced — where the 
patient dia. 

I fear, from the shortness of yom^ letter, from the in- 
correctness of its orthography and syntax, and from the 
omission of some material words, that want of paper was 
■ot your ONLT cause for omitting to write the week before 
last. Enclosed you have something to obviate that objeo- 
tion. — 

** There is only 20 more to carry down/' 

Mfte, — ^A verb dobs not agree with ita nominative 
iir number and person, 

^Plowing^^ — ^whiclk in the pveceding Kne you 'have 

-spek correctly. 
<< No accidents lias befrUen*" A verb 'does not^ i&e. 
<< The reason that I did not (the word write omitted) 

last week, was, &c. '' No attention to .points, at ^l-L 
Nwxber of lines in your letter, nine, 
errors four^* 

Surely you cannot have read -oVfer, once Whjit you ^dle. 
Moreover, the hand is a very bad -one; mafhy words-blotted, 
ahd cfvery j)art of it befrays negligenise and 9Lcarelessness^£ 
excelling — i n)ost deplorable symptom in a young man. 

ts I^. Rbbinsbn in Farmville, and%*1ie3ikely'1bteiii&ift 
there? Would ydu prefer being at Htf tap. «id.*ColI.^ofiitfey. 
' » . ■ ■ i f . II 

^'Bendes omittij)!^ tlie'yair'1806. 


ing at Bisarre? I am very uneasy' about you, my tiear boy, 
III your letters I see no trace of your atudiea— no roenlion 
made of Ovid or Homer — jwlJiing as to your manner of dis- 
posing of your time. As book as I am well enough, I shall 
sot off for Uizarre. God bless you. 

Vaqr ageclionate friend ^H 

and relation, ^H 


What has facoome of the journal that I directed you to 

Have you ever received the two banks notes that I sent 

Do net imitate your father's handwriting — it is a running 
band, unfit for you at present. You must learn to write 
distinctly first, as children learn to read, letter by letter, 
syllable by syllable, word by word. The first page of this 
tetter is a vM-y good eopy for you — particularly t 


^^^ I WHOT 

11 page ui UI0 _ 

y the data. ^^H 


Geargetevm, FA. 9, 180ft 
K Tmbodoks, 
WROTE to ytui, yesterday, by the New Orleans 
tmil, and, through mislake, dated my letter in January. I 
vrouM have you, my lieot boy, consider the little book, 
which I sent at the same time, as coming from my head and 
heart, and addressed to your own. Our situation, and that of 
its writer and his nephew, are not dissimilar. Let us, then, 
profit by their example. Whilst I endeavour to avail my- 
self of the wisdom and experience of I he one, do you also 
Strive to imitate the amiable docility of the other; and so 
-.m^y God bless you, my dear hoy. 

r to pnwot the 
wood bxta bnag fSh^i^ wmt aft Kr. JshMlan lo mm! 
yoo. Keep ■ mtek apoa ril wwafmmam, aad A reMe n tba% 
fat my Mse, vith s |wiMiinii^ wfen I R>Bra; oot ihit I 
BwMt amonly » go M bv, fafcidl I detat.) iboiit i few 
tim of irvod; faol, atoaM « tlK at^ b, it n too snek 
exposed to real injoiT baa waA i 
ctljr to their ii 

n to I ^ bdur, I rfd at «« br Binn«. 


fiow do yoa COOK oa with Orid »d Rok^ 

Who is (be greatest man that y«i htre met with io E^^ 
liri) historj? (Pll answer (or it, be prorea tbe nraot rirto- 
otu:) and why do too think him so great? 

Who IB the worat man? 

Tbe mo9t learned? 

I ihall bring home some good maps of our own coaalry. 

Sioee Thursday, Ihe «3d of January. (inclaaiFe,) we have 
had mild warm weather, wiib rain and frosL What might 
be called Alay weather. You promised to keep an account 
of the weather at Bizarre, but your little wraps of letters eon- 
tain noihini; relating to it. By this lime, the ploughs ought 
U have tiiiialied the lotv.ground field next C. Allen's, — when 
f must begin on (he opposite low-ground field, next B> 
m'§, on this side of the R. 



Oeorgetoien, Saturday, Feb. 16, 180&J 
Mt DSAB Bov, 

After I had gone to bed last night, and lay tumbling 
and tossing about, uneasy and unable to rest, my thoughts 
running upon many an anxious subject, among which you 
were not forgotLen, I was relieved by the entrance of a ser- 
vani, who handed me your letter of the flth, with some others. 
But that relief was only temporary. My mind fixed itself 
on your situation for the remainder of the night, and I have 
determined to settle you at school at Winchester, unless (of 
which i have no expectation) I shall find Hampden Sidney 
very greatly !i\\trf:A for the belter. Atyour timeof life, my 
son, I was even more inelegibly placed than you are, and 
would have given worlds for quiet seclusion and books. I 
never had either. You will smile when i tell you that the 
first map that I almost ever saw was one of Virginia, when 
I was nearly fifteen; and that I never (until the age of man- 
hood) possessed any treatise on geography, other than an oh' 
solete Gazetteer of Salmon, and my sole alias were the five 
maps, if you will honour them with that name, contained in 
the Gazetteer, each not quite so big as this page, of the three 
great eastern divisions, and two western ones, of the earth. 
The best and only Latin dictionary that I ever owned, you 
now have. I had a small Greek lexicon, bought with my own 
pocket money, and many other books, acquired in the same 
way, (from 19 to 20 years of age;) but these were merely 
books of amusement. I never was with any preceptor, one 
only excepted, (and he left the school after I had been there 
about two months,) who would deserve to he called a Latin 
or Greek scholar; and I never had any master of modern lan- 
guages, but an old Frenchman, (some gentleman valet, I sup- 
pose,) who could neither write nor spell. 

I mention these things, my child, that you may not be dis- 
'Tis true, that I am a very ignorant man, for one 


^^^Im) i> Uiought lo hare received a learned education. Yfld 
(I hope) will acquire mare information, aod digest it belter. 
'Riere is an old proverb, ■' You cannot tench aa old dog ne\t 
tridts." YoHts is the lime of life to acquire knowledge. 
Hereflfter you must use it; like the young, sturdy labourer, 
who hys up, whilst he is fresh and rigorous, provision for 
his d eel hi in g age. 

When I asked whether you had received the bank notes I 
Bent yon, I did not mean to inquire how you had laid theat 
out. Don't you see the difference? From your not men- 
tioning that they had come to hand, (i careless omission; you 
■liould break yourself of this habit,) and your cousin inform- 
ing me that she had not received two packets sent by the same 
mail, I concluded that the notes were probably lost or em- 
bezzled. Hence my inquiry after them. No, my son; what* 
ever cash I send you (unleea (or some special purpose) U 
yoiin; you will spend it as you please, and I have nothing la 
■ay to it. That you will not employ it in a manner that you 
ought to bo ashamed of, I liave the fullest coniidence. To 
pry into such affaira would not only betray a want of thai 
confidence, and even a suspicion discreditable to us both, but 
infringe upon your rights and independence. For, altheogb 
you are not of an age to be your own master, and independent 
in all your acliona, yet you are possessed of rights which it 
would be tyranny and injustice to withhold, or invade. In- 
deed, this independence, which is so much vaunted, and which 
young people think consists in doing what they please, wheo 
tbey grow up to man's estate, (with as much justice as the 
poor negro thinks liberty consists in being supported in idle- 
ness, hy other people's labour,) — this independence is but a 
name. Place us where you will, — along with our righbs 
there must coexist correlative duties, — and the more exalted 
the station, the more arduous are these last. Indeed, as the 
duty is precisely correspondent to the power, it follows that 
the richer, the wiser, the more powerful a man is, the greater 
^a the obligation upon him to employ his gifts in lessening 
U»e Bum of human misery; and this employment constitutes 

a asA I 


happiness, which the woak and wicbcd vainly imagine to oon- 
aist in wealth, finery, or aensual gratification. Who so mi- 
serable as the bad Emperor of Rome? Who more happy than 
Tngtn and ArttoninusE Look at the fretful, peevish, rich 
man, whose senses are as much jaded by attempting to em- 
brace loo much gratification, as the limbs of the poor post 
horse are by Incessant labour. [See the Gentlemen 
Baaket-makers, and, indeed, the whole of Sandrord and 

Do not, however, undervalue, on that accotint, the (SiaMC^ 
ter of the real gentleman, which is the most respectable 
amongst men. It consists not of pTate, and equipage, and rich 
living, any more than in the disease which that mode of life 
engenders; but in truth, courtesy, bravery, generosity, and 
learning, which last, although not essential to it, yet dtjes 
very much to adorn and illustrate the character of the trne 
gentleman. Tommy Merton's gentlemen were no gentle- 
men, except in the acceptation of innkeepers, (and thegreat 
vulgar, as well as the small,) with whom he who rides in a 
coach and six, is three times as great a gentleman as he who 
drives a post-chaise and pair. Lay down this as a prin- 
ciple, that truth is to the other virtues, what vital air is to 
the human system. They cannot exist al all without it; end 
as the body may live under many diseases, if supplied with 
pure oir for its consumption, so may the character survive 
many defects, where there is a rigid attachment io truth. 
All equivocation and subterfuge belong to falsehood, which 
consists, notm us\n^/ahe wordsi only, but in conveying false 
impressions, no matter how; and if aperson deceive himaelf, 
and I, by my silence, suffer him to remain in that error, I am 
implicated in the deception, unless he be one who has no right 
to rely upon me for information, and, in that ca^, 'tis plain, 
I could not be instrumental in deceiving him. 

I send you two letters, addressed to myself, whilst at 
school — of which I now sorely repent -me I did not then 
avail myself, (so far, at least, as my very ineligible situation 
would admit.) Will you accept a \iU\e ot id's «,»ves\RSsR»i 

^■1 LETTEHS or 

bitiy. The labour of doing Ihia will make you earcTnl 
correct; and, when the habit la formed, the trooble is orer. 
Habit is truly called " second nature." To form good hi- 
bits is almost aa easy as to fall into bad. What is the difie- 
rence between an industrious, sober man and an idle dniofc- 
eo one, but their respective habits? 'Tis just as easy for 
Mr. Harrison to be temperate and active, as tia for poor 
Knowles to be the reverse; with this great differeneer tha^ 
exclusively of the effects of their respective courses of Irfe eo 
their respectability and fortunes, the exercises of the one SO 
followed by health, pleasure, and peace of mind, whiU 
those of the other engender disease, pain, and discontent — 
to Bay nothing of poverty in its moat hideous shape, wanl, 
squalid misery, and the contempt of the world, contrasted 
with affluent plenty, a smiling family, and the esteem of all 
good men. Perhaps you cannot believe that there exists s 
being who would hesitate which of these two lots to choose. 
Alas! my son, vice puts on such alluring shapes, indolence 
is so seducing, that, (Hlie the files in ^sop,] we revel whilst 
the sun shines, and for a few hours' temporary pleasure pay 
the price of perishing miserably in the winter of our old 
age. The industrious ants are wiser. By a little forbesr- 
ance at the moment, by setting a just value on the Juiurt, 
and disregarding present temptation, ihcy secure an honour- 
able and comfortable asylum. All nature, my son, is a vo- 
lume,, speuklng comfort and offering instruction to the good 
Md wisB. But " the fotJ sailh in his heart, There is no God:" 
he shuts his eyes to the great book of Nature that lies open 
before him. Your fate, my dear Theodorick, is in your 
own hands. Like Hercules, every young man has hia choice 
between pleasure, falsely so called^ and infamy, or labori- 
ous virtue and a fair fame. In old age, indeed long before, 
*« begin to feel the folly, or wisdom, of our selection. I 
con6dGntly trust that you, my son, will choose tviacly. In 
•W'en years from this time, you will repent, or rejoice, ab 
i disposition which you make of the present hour. 
Tour afieclionate uncle, 



P. S, — We don't iay "I only go there of poat-ilays," but 
on post-day a. 


fViJoy, March 21, 18061 3 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

Yotm letter (the first that I have received for thrfl 
pOBta) has relieved me from very great concern and i 
ness OD your account. Your reason for failing to write, \ 
altogether insufficient. Compare, I beseech you, my a 
the trouble which it would give you to send me a few shoi 
lines, with my suspense and anxiety lest you should be ilV J 
or some disastrous accident have befallen you, and I am sura I 
you will confess, that the loss, <»- miscarriage, of one of youf I 
letters, or the trouble of composing it, is nothing in comp»- I 
rJBOn. Send your next by the New Orleans mail, or writfrl 
by the Genito post, and I shall receive an early answer to I 
this. Attend, I beg of you, my son, to your books. In a I 
short lime, 1 hope to see you; but let not this expectatiMj 
slop your pen. 

Believe me, most truly, 

your affectionate 

K kinsman and friend, 


P. S, — I am sorry for the loss of Miniken's foal. How 
are the others? — and every thing, and every body? How 
and where is Dr. Robinson? and Mr. Dillon? and Mr. John» 




House of Representatives^ April 5, 1806. 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

Last night I was again denied the pleasure of hear- 
ing from you. I was not, indeed, without hopes that the 
New Orleans mail, which came in this morning, would 
bring me a letter from you, but in this expectation' I have 
been disappointed. By this time I hope your cousins and 
sisters are at home, and your solitary, uncomfortable situa- 
tion much changed for the better. 
God bless you, my son. I hope soon to see you once 


Your friend, 



Bizarre, July 20, 1806. 

Mr DEAR Boys, 

Br this time, I trust, you have become familiarized, in 
some degree, to your new situation, and to its restraints; 
which, I hope, you will bear without murmuring, in the re- 
flection that your present self-denial will essentially contri- 
bute to your future aiid permanent benefit I have often re- 
gretted, since I parted from you, that it was not my good 
fortune, at your time of life, to be placed in a situation 
equally eligible with what I conceive yours to be. You 
have both, unless I am much deceived in you, a laudable 
ambition to become learned and res{}ectable men. Whether 
such is to be your future character, respected and esteemed 
by all good men, or whether you shall become mere vulgar 
beings, whose only business is ^'fivges consumere,^^ will 



sUogether depend upon your present exertions. You, my 
dear Theodore, are loo much straitened for time, to lose a 
moment that can he profilably employed; and you, my dear 
Buona, although younger by five years, must not conceive 
that you have any to lose. Recollect that, two years ago, 
you could master Cassar, and that if you had continued to 
progress, instead of falling-back, wiiich, from ill heallh and 
the want of an inslrueler, you were compelled to do, you 
might now be a finished Latin scholar, and somewhat of a 
Grecian inio the bargain. The man who thinks himself so 
rich that he can aSbrd to neglect his aflairs and throw away 
his money, is not far from want, however great his estate 
may be. But time is, at once, the most valuable and most 
perishable of all our possessions; when lost it never can be 

I hope to hear from you both, very soon, and to learn 
what you arc doing, and how you like your situation. Your 
mother, my dear Tudor, is not very well, but Sally is quite 
so. Tom and Archibald Harrison have been with us, ever 
since Friday evening. Beverley has nol, returned from Mr. 
Randolph's. Dr. Robinson has, at last, brought his lady 
home. We dined with them to-day. 

Cresent me, very respectfully, to Dr. Haller. I write by 
candle-light, and the moths are swarming around my pen, 
and on the paper, so that you will have some difficulty, I 
fear, to make out my writing. 

God bless you, my dear boys! I am your affectionate 
and friend, 


P. S. — I was Borry to find, on coming home, that D'An- 
ville had been left behind. Theodore should apprize Dr. 
Haller of his never having had the small-pox, and embnustf* 
the first opporluaily of being vaccinated. 



f, Thundii^ night, JiOf 24, 180& 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I AM Yoy glad to find that you and Buona* are 
pleased with yoiur situation, and that you have b^ron to 
learn French. At the same time, my son, if it is not in- 
compatible with Dr. Halter's plan of instruction, I wish yoo 
both to resume your Latin. Present my respects to the 
Doctor, and communicate this circumstance to him. 

The following errors in your letter, a little care and re- 
flection would, 1 am persuaded, have led you to avoid. 
^< Have b^an^^ is not grammatical: began is the imperfiMt 
tense of the verb begin; have begun is the perfect *^ None 
of us ever go in the street:'' it should be into the street 
T%e preposition ''iy," instead of the verb bt^, to pur- 
chase. ^^ Mellons,^^ for melons. '^ I am dicMed by the 
corrections, &c," is not good English: it should be, I am . 
directed by, &c There can be no excuse for £ds6 ortho- 
graphy: and what but inattention could have caused the er- 
rors I have noted, or occasioned Buona to spell watch, thu»^ 
^^wacth .?" God bless you both, my children. ^ 

Your fond uncle, 



Bixwrre, Sept 11, 1806. 
Mv DEAR Theodore, 

I THANK you for your letter, which I received by the 
post before last Present my respects to Dr. Haller, and 

• Tbft nipsaniinn by mkjtk he crikd hw ydonger pephev*— P; 



fHm that I will be obliged to him to procure you shirts, 
handkerchiefs, and such other things as you may stand ir 
need of. 

We do not say " scarcely nothing," but any thing. 
Gire my love to Buona, and tell him that I shall forward^ 
his letter to his brother immediately ; but, tell him, also, tht 
"a tolerable long letter" is intolerable English, 
should have used the adverb [tolerably) instead of the ad< 
jective. I wish that, instead of a fictitious correspondent 
you would address your letters, I mean those which Dr. H. 
requires you to write, weekly, to some one of your friends,. 
€r acquaintance. It would take off from them the air of 
BtiShess which now characterizes them. If Buona had 
describing Richmond to his mother, or myself, he wouli 
never have introduced it with, " I beg leave to wait upol 
you;" an awkward exordium, which even Mr. Expectatioi 
of Norfolk, would not approve. You see, my sons, that 
make very free with your performances, but do- not let this: 
discourage you. Write your letters, just as you thi7^k them, 
and they will be easy; and any Uiaeeuraey, which creeps in, 
may be afterwards corrected. 

The partridges arc so forward, that we have begun to 
shoot nearly a month earlier than usual. Carlo is an excel- 
lent dog for bringing birds, after they are shot, but not so- 
good for finding game. I wish you were with me, my sons, 
to enjoy the sport. Your skill, my dear Theodore, would 
make amends for my clumsiness, and dear Buona would hold 
Miniken, who now runs away from uncle whenever she has 
an opportunity. But, thank God, my children, you are 
more profitably engaged. This, alone, reconciles me to the 
loss of your society, t hope to see you both, about the last 
of this month. 
Mother has had an ague, and Sally very sore fingers. 
Your friend and kinsman, 


P, S, — Do not make a flourish under my name, on the su- 
jMncription of your letterst It is not cusVouiai^ \o ftat^^^li 


I got a letter to-night from Mr. Bryan: he and my little 
god-0on are well, but Mrs. B. has the feyer. 

My dear Buona, this is your birth-day; you are now en- 
tering on your twelfth year: may you see many happy re- 
turna of this anniversary. The success of my wish will ma- 
terially depend, my childy jon the use which you make of 
the present time. 


Oeorgetownj Dec 18, I806L 
Mt dear Theodore, 

I AM extremely glad that you and Buona are once 
more in a situation to prosecute your studies, which, I sup- 
pose, engross your whole time, since I do not hear from you 
as often as when I was at Bizarre, although you now have a 
daily conveyance for your letters. My dear Tudor has not 
written once to his uncle; nor have I received any letter 
from him, for his brother — to whom I wrote, by the Leoni- 
das, soon after my arrival here. You would gratify me very 
much, my sons, by letting me hear from you two or three 
times a week, even if it were but a single line. My dear 
boys, I have no objection to your engaging in any manly and 
athletic exercise whatever; on the contrary, would encourage 
you to such innocent and invigorating sports. I have some 
books of amusement, as well as instruction, which I shall send 
you in a few days. God bless you both. 

Your fond uncle, 




Georgetoton, Jan. S, 1807. .1 
vbfiAH Theodore, 

I HAVE just received your letter of the 4th, and v 
with great anxiety, for one from Dr. Haller, on the same 

Let me recommend to you another perusal of Lord Chat- 
liam'a letters lo his nephew. Attend to hia precepts respect- 
ing deporimenl to inferiors, equals, and superiors. Let these 
words, also, be engraven on your mind — "Whatever you 
take from pleasure, amusement, or indolence, for these first 
few years of your life, will repay you a hundred fold in the 
pleasures, honours, and advantages, of all your remaining 
days. " The candour with which you confess your indiscre- 
tion towards Dr. H., and your determination to avoid giving 
him future cause of displeasure, prevent my saying any thing 
on that subject, except to caution you against any indulgence 
of sudden suggestions of your feelings. Some impulse of 
this kind, I must persuade myself, and not boyish conceit, 
would have impelled you to lay down a regular exercise of 
your school. Remember that labour is necessary to exctl- 
lence. This is an eternal truth, although vanity cannot be 
brought lo believe, or indolence to heed it. I am deeply in- 
terested in seeing you turn out a respectable man, in every 
point of view; and, as far as I could, have endeavoured to 
furnish you with the means of acquiring knowledge and coi 
rect principles, and manners, at the same time. Self-conc( 
and indifference are unfriendly, in an equal degree, to the 
tainment of knowledge, or the forming of an amiable charac- 
ter. The first is more offensive, but does not more com- 
pletely mar all excellence than the last; and it is truly de- 
plorable that both flourish in Virginia, as if it were tlieir na- 
tive soil. A petulant arrogance, or supine, listless indiffer- 
ence, marks the character of too many of our young men. 
They early assume airs of manhood ; and these premature mi 


ac- j 


remain children for the rest of their lives. Upon the credft 
of a smattering of Latin, drinking grog, and chewing tobacco, 
these striplings set up for legislators and statesmen; and seem 
to deem it derogatory from their manhood to treat age and 
experience with any degree of deference. They are loud, 
boisterous, oyerbearing, and dictatorial: profane in sj^eecb,. 
low and obscene in their pleasures. In the tayern, the sta- 
ble, or the gaming-house, they are at home; but, placed in* 
the society of real gentlemen, and men of letters, they are 
awkward and uneasy: in all situations, they are contemptible. 

The vanity of excelling in pursuits, where excellence does 
not imply merit, has been the ruin of many a young man. I 
should, therefore, be under apprehensions for a young fellow, 
who danced uncommonly well, and expect more hereafter 
from his heels than from his head% Alexander, I think, was 
reproached with singing well, and very justly. He must 
have misapplied the time which he devoted to the acquisi- 
tion of so great a proficiency in that art. I once knew a 
young fellow who was remarkably handsome; he was highly 
skilled in dancing and fencing — an exceedingly good skatei^ 
and one of the most dexterous billiard players and marks- 
men that I ever saw: — he sang a good song, and was the envy 
of every foolish fellow, and the darling of every silly giri^. 
who knew him. He was, nevertheless, one of the most igr 
norant and conceited puppies whom I ever beheld. Yet, it 
is highly probable, that if he had not been enamoured of the 
rare qualities which I have enumerated, he might have made 
a valuable and estimable man. But he was too entirely gra- 
tified, with his superficial and worthless accomplishments to« 
bestow a proper cultivation on his mind. 

Farewell, my dear Theodore. I am almost blind. May 
y^ou, my son, prove all that can be desired by your sincere 
friend, and afiectionate kinsman, 


p. S. — Huve you read all Miss Edge worth's tales? Do 
jou remember, the story of Lame Jer^v^as? It is hardly ro.> 


r 4nd induaLry, hai 

1 mean in this respect, that temperance, fideUtK 

aJsed a 

, from as low be^m 

nings, to reapeclability and affluence. The Lottery, too, 
admirable story, and, perhaps, a true one, except as to tlMt 
happy conclusion. The little sketch which I have sent Buo- 
na, will serve to give you a rude idea of the waters of the 
Missouri. 1 hope you have not forgotten your geography. 
Do not neglect that amusing and useful study. Write to me 
often, and continue to send copies of your translations and 

IrciseB in French, as well as Latin. 


?, Sundat/, April 6, 1807. -* 

Iv DEAR Theodore, 

I EECBivED your lelter the day before yesterday, and 
am not at all surprised at its contents, although, at the same 
time, not the less obliged to you for your intelligence. I 
saw enough, when I was last in Richmond, to make me doubt 
whether you or Tudor could reap any solid benefit at Dr. 
Haller's school; and, I assure you, it has caused me many a 
moment of anxious reflection since. Indeed, I had begun to 
entertain fears of this sort some time before, which my exa- 
mination of you both only served to confirm. In the course 
of next week, I shall send down for you both, and, even if 
the school be kept up, I must be greatly at a loss how to dis- 
pose of you, should you return. Pray inquire into the name 
and character of the young Irish gentleman of whom you 
speak, and inform him, from me, that, in case he answer my 
expectations, I wish to employ him. My terms will be more 
eligible than any which can be offered to him at a public se- 
minary, and I will not stand upon price. He will have less 
to do, and be better accommodated in evety ie5\ie,ti*.,\.\.vi9N- 
Mjrdear boys, my anxiety about you is exliftme. t^ct^ 


boor that you lose in the seed-time of learning, fills me with 
uneasiness and concern; I know, so toellf that years of study 
hereafter cannot make up for a day misspent, at your time of 


God bless you, my sons, 


Thxodorick B. Dudley. 

Present my best respects to Major Scott, and tell him that 
I hope to have the pleasure of seeing him soon, as I shall be 
in Richmond about the 20th of next month. Don't forget 


Bizarre, July 1% 1807. 

My dear Theodore, 

I HAVE written to Dr. Haller, requesting that a part 
of the time which you now employ in French exercises, may 
be devoted to the Greek grammar, in which it is my wish 
that you should say one lesson, at the hasty daily, until you 
be perfect in it. The time of your continuance at school be- 
gins now to grow short, and some knowledge of the Greek 
is almost indispensable to the profession for which you are 
designed — the etymology of every term in medicine and che- 
mistry being traced to that language. 

I can't account for not having heard either from yourself 
or Buona, since I left Richmond. I hope it has not been 
owing to your carelessness, but to some other cause. Your sis- 
ter is well; but your cousin Judy complains a good deal of 
pain in her side. My own health has been very various 
since I saw you. Write and let me know how and what you 
do. God bless you, my dear boy. 

I am your affectionate friend, 

T. B. DupuBT. 


Call on my good friend Major Scott, and present my b 
regards to bim, with inquiries after his health. If you should 
Bee Dr. Brockenb rough, present him with my best respects. 
You are now of an age to know how the world begins to 
move, and I hope you will entertain me with such occur- 
rences as fall within your observation- Do you know whe- 
ther Mr. Tucker returned to Williamsburg after the Court of 
Appeals rose, or if he has gone to Staunton ? 


FarmviUe, Augusl 3, 1807. 
Mr DEAK Theodore, 

VotiR few ehort lines were received by the last post, 
but I have seen nothing of the letter which you mention 
h&ving kept in your desk, in expectation of a conveyance by 
Mr. Randolph. Do you say your lessons to Mr. O'Reilly 
now? I hope you do; and that you will make every exer- 
tion to attain a proficiency in Greek, even at the expense of 
a temporary neglect of your French and Latin. Indeed, the 
Greek itself would keep alive your knowledge of the last. 
You say nothing of the Major or of Dr. Brockenhrough. 
Make my respects to both of them, and ask the Major to 
write to me. 

My love to Tudor; I have not leisure to write to him by 
this post. I shall not disapprove his visit to Mr, Heth'a, if 
he do not make it too long. The letter to which he refers, 
haa never reached me. Hereafter, I hope, you will put your 
letters into the post-office ivith your own hands. Let me 
know if you want any thing — clothes. &c. Your sister has 
had the St. Anthony's fire, but is quite well at present. Your 
cousin Judy has been complaining for some days, and looks 


Your affectionate frleVL^, 



I am sorry Ihat Tudor hat left off nying hi* Irwom to Mi 
O'Reilly. I like bit method of tOMhing. SImw him [Ta- 
•dor] this letter. 

Capt Murray's family are od a yiait to Dr. RobiiuKMi. Ho- 
^jah is coming to live with Mr. Johnston, to studj law wilk 
him. He is expected up every day. 


Fammllef Aug. 7, 1807. 
Mr DSAR Theodore, 

I HAVE just received your letter of the 2d. En- 
closed you have ten dollars, out of which you will reim- 
burse Dr. Haller the price of the hat which he was so good 
as to procure for you when yours was stolen. If you are in 
want of shoes, get a pair, and divide what may remain of the 
money with Tudor. In your next, let me know the num« 
ber of lessons, &c., which you daily perform, and the mas- 
ters to whom you recite; or, rather, a description of your 
studies for a week, under the several heads of Greek, L»- 
tin, French, mathematics, &c. I am sorry, my dear boy, 
that you should write merely from a sense of duty; but I 
bope you will not always be as destitute of matter worth 
communicating as you now represent yourself to be, and as 
I feel to be my own case. I am quite alone, and obliged to 
do great violence to my inclination in continuing to endure 
the privation of your and Tudor's society; but the conside- 
ration of your advantage prevails over my own gratification. 
Farewell, my dear boys: may you answer and ever exceed 
the expectations of your fond uncle, 

T. B. DuDLXr. 


Have you heard lately from your father or mother? 
is well: Hodijah has not yet come up. 


FarmvUk, Friday, Aag. 21, 1807.] 

Mt dear TaSODORE, 

I HAVE jasl received your letter of the 15th, whid 
gives me a great deal of pleasure aa far as it relates to youPi 
self; but I was sorry to hear nothing of Tudor, who last 
week wrote to his mother that he was in bad health, and his 
silence this week will make her very uneasy. Why do you 
take no notice of each other in your letters, as if you were 
utter strangers. 1 calculated that four or five dollars (I gave 
four for Buona) would get your hat, two the shoes, and 
then there would have been nine or twelve shillings a-piece 
for you. 

Give my compliments to Major Scott, and ask him to pay 
you ten dollars,- and charge them to me. Give Tudor two 
of them in my name, If the other eight do not answer 
your purpose, the major will give you what is requisite. 
Do you take plenty of exercise? and how is your health' 
and Tudor's? la the mathematical lesson you say, in Eu- 
clid? — What book? I wish you not to discontinue French- 
entirely, by any means. Omitting some of your Latin les- 
sons, (say three a week,) would enable you to devote two or 
three days to French. 

Call imTnediaiely on Major Scott, and tell him that I un- 
derstand Davis means to send the wagons down soon, and 1 
request he will order iheni to call at Webster's cabinet-shop' 
for a press and bedstead for me. You have not yet men- 
tioned how my old friend is, or Dr. B. Your intelligence 


if leceptable, although not new. Write Jllstonf not M 

Crod bless you, my dear Theodore. 

Yours affectionately, 

T. R Dudley. 

Mr. Creed Taylor, who saw you both on Saturday, tella 
me Tudor and yourself were well. 


Bizarre, Aug. 23, 180T. 
My DEAR Theodore, 

When I wrote to you yesterday, I did not advert to 
the circumstance of your being engaged in reading « Ele** 
mens de Chymie," which will serve to prevent your forget* 
ting your French altogether. Nevertheless, I could wish 
you to accustom yourself to translate into that language, 
or (what is better) to compose in it; since, in a short time, 
you would acquire the habit of thinking in it, also, instead 
of thinking in English and translating your thoughts. Do 
not suppose, from this, that I prefer the French, as a Ian-* 
guage, to our own. Far from it. In my estimation it 
stands at an immeasurable distance, in the scale of excel- 
lence, below our native tongue. But the progress of the 
arts in France, and still more, the progress of her armSf 
render an acquaintance with the language of that formida- 
ble people almost indispensable. Widely diffused as it now 
is, every day enlarges its range. It will be to Europe what 
the Latin was in the age of Trajan; and the time, perhaps, is 
not far distant, when the language and literature of England 
will be unknown out of North America, and we shall not 


■Tve ihem without a struggle. Tliey have not taken 
KKit deep enough in India to withstand the storm: perhaps 
their insignificancy may preserve the Betllements in New 
Holland, and thus perpetuate the mother tongue in both he- 
mispheres. Under lliese cirr.umslancea, nothing short of in- 
fatuation could induce the English cabinet to force us into a 
war with them. Bui I am running into politics. 

Is it true that Dr. Haller intends to break up his school, 
and for the reason which I have heard assigned? — " Mr. Pel- 
zer's striking one of his scholars?" Is Mr, Pelzer still with 
Dr. H. and Mr. Garnet? Has the philosophical apparatus ar- 
rived? Does any one lecture on natural philosophy or che- 
mistry? Are there any oUicr Greek scholars but youraelf? 
if so, what books do they read? Have you practised much 
in arithmetic? — without a ready knowledge of it, the study 
of the mathematics will be vain. 1 hope, in your next, a 
reply to these queries, for I have observed that your lelters 
are very seldom answers to mine. 

Sally was much pleased with your intelligence concern- 
ing her parents and brethren. She is well, and desires to 
be remembered affectionately to you: so does your cousin 
Judy. I'm afraid that we shall have very few partridges, 
owing to the wetness of the season. Yesterday was the 
first day that has passed without rain since tlie lOlh. The 
crops are ruined, corn excepted, and that much injured bt 
wet. Farewell, my dear Theodore. 

I am, in truth, your affectionate kinsman 

and friend, 
BODORiCK Bland Dudlgv. 

gi LEmits OF 


Bizarre^ Augu$i aO, 1807. 


Db. Haller writes me that you have become ei- 
ceedingly diligent of late, and that the good effect of your in- 
dustry is manifested by your advancement in your studies. 
I can scarcely make you sensible of the pleasure which this 
intelligence has given me. I laid awake the greater part of 
the night, after I received the letter, thinking of you, and 
pleasing myself with imagining your future progress in life. 
Whether you prove a useful or creditable member of society 
or not, depends altogether upon yourself; and I am truly re- 
joiced to hear that you possess the inclination, in as great a 
degree as you do the power: not th&t I have hitherto doubted 
your disposition to learn; but there is a wide difference be- 
tween a boy's getting his lesson from a sense of duty, or a 
fear of punishment, and his applying himself, with zeal, from 
a conviction that he is consulting his future advantage, and 
from an honourable ambition to distinguish himself. To ex^ 
ctlj there must be something of this ardour. Without it, no- 
thing better than a tame mediocrity can be expected. The 
taste for reading, which you are now forming, will be a source 
of pleasure to you through life. If the indolent and the de- 
bauched could conceive the enjoyment of a literary mind, 
their boasted pleasures would become loathsome to them. 

You say that your mathematical lessons are << in the first 
book:'' — of what? Euclid, I suppose; but why this obscurity, 
or, rather, this omission? Do you read the evangelists ia 
Greek with tolerable facility ? How do you like that lan- 
guage? Do you continue to translate English into French 
and Latin? If you see Quasha when he comes down again,, 
send me Edgeworth's Tales by him. By the way, call at 
Major Scott's every evening after this comes to hand, and 
you will know when the wagon comes down. I expect it 
will be in tomv about Wednesday oc Thursday. Inquire at 


I, Ellis', and Allen's, and the difiereat stores, f9^% 
shot No. 8; get me a bag, and send it up by Quasha; the Ma- 
jor will pay for it, or, what is the same thing, furnish you 
ivith money to do it. Order Quasha to call at Webster's ca- 
binet shop for a mahogany press, and a bedstead of mine, and, 
if there are any oyster shells in Richmond, get a hogshead for 
me, and send them up by the wagon. The Major is busy, 
and I do not like to trouble him. Show him this letter, and 
he will advance the money for the shot and shells. 
Adieu, my son, 

Your friend, 


My dear Buona has not written to his uncle for a great 
length of time. The examination being over, he now has 
leisure, no doubt. My love to him. 



Biiarre, Oct. 6, ISOT 
deah Bovs, 

The time has, at length, arrived, when I may once 
more indulge myself with the pleasure of your company. It 
is an unspeakable satisfaction to me, you may be assured, and, 
I trust, not less so to yourselves. Enclosed are twenty dollars, 
(live a piece, besides ten for your journey,) which may dis- 
charge any little debts that you may have contracted, al- 
though I hope you have not exposed yourselves to the in- 
conventCQce of any debt, however small: but I know that 
this is an error into which youthful heedlessness is too apt to 
run. If you have escaped it, you have exercised more judg- 
ment than I possessed at your age; the vfant. ot -wVixAv <a«.s. 


me many a heart-tche. When any bauble caught my fiiney^ 
I would, perhaps, buy it on credit, and always for twice as 
much, at leaat, as it was worth* In a day or two, cloyed with 
the possession of what, to my youthful imagination, had ap- 
peared so very desirable, I would readily have given it away 
to the first comer; but, in discarding it, I could not exonerate 
myself from the debt which I had unwittingly incurred,the re- 
collection of which incessantly haunted me. Many a night's 
sleep has been broken by sad reflection, on the difficulty into 
which I had plunged myself, and in devising means of extri- 
cation. At the approach of my creditor, 1 shrunk, and lookedj 
no doubt, as meanly as Ifeli: for the relation between debtor 
and creditor is that of a slave to his master. It begins with 
the subjugation of the mind, and ends with the enslavement 
of the body. The ancients sold the person of the debtor to 
slavery for the benefit of the creditor; we imprison it: nei- 
ther punishment too severe for the wretch, who is abject 
enough to submit to conditions which may, ultimately, lead 
to so humiliating a consequence. The most intolerable por- 
tion of his lot is its degradation, and to this he has deliberate- 
ly consented to subject himself, upon a contingency! At the 
same time, ho must have the soul of Nero, who could inflict 
upon a fellow being so much misery, (and this is the strong- 
est argument against capital punishment: for human butche- 
ry presupposes human butchers, monsters whom society 
should not tolerate, much less nourish in her bosom;) I ex- 
cept, however, the case of a fraudulent debtor. For if he 
may be enslaved in the penitentiary, who steals a dollar, sure- 
ly he may be punished with imprisonment, or hard labour, 
who dishonestly embezzles, or withholds, a hundred, which 
he justly owes, and is able to pay. He is the greater rogue 
of the two, for he adds breach of trust to robbery. You did 
not trust the highwayman who forcibly, or the thief who pri- 
vately, took your dollar, or your money. You never put it into 
their hands with a sacred promise^ expressed, or implied, to 
restore it again; but secured it against both as well as you 
could. Speaking of promises, (and every debtor is a pro- 


miser, and too often a promise-breaker,) you cannot be 
much on your guard against them, unless where the per- 
formance is itndoitbledly in your power, and, at the same 
iimej will conduce to your honour or benefit, or those of 
another. When I was a boy, I was sometimes betrayed into 
promises, by the artful solieilalion of others, principally ser- 
vants, whom I had not the firmness to deny. The courage 
which enables us to say "ko'" to an improper application, 
cannot be too soon acquired. The wantof it has utterly ruined 
many an amiable man, My word, in a moment of facility, 
being once passed, I was even more tormented with the 
thoughts of the obligation into which I had unthinkingly en- 
tered, than by the importunity of those to whom it had been 
given. Let me advise you both to profit by my warning, 
and never make a promise which you can honourably avoid. 
When any one proposes a matler to you, in the least degree 
repugnant to your feelings, have the courage to give a reso- 
lute, yet mild, denial. Do not, through false shame, through 
a vicious modesty, entrap yourself into a situation which 
may dye your cheeks with real shame. Say, " No, it will 
not be in- my power; I cannot:" or, if it be a thing which 
you would -willingly do, but doubt your ability, take care to 
my, " I cannot promise, but, if it be in my power, I will do 
it." Remember, too, that no good man will ever exact a 
promise of a boy, or a very young person, hut for their good; 
never for his own benefit. You may safely promise to try 
lo get so many lines in Virgil, &c.; and if you do honestly 
endeavour to effect it, your word is not forfeited. In short, 
a promise is always a serious evil to him who gives it; often 
to him who receives it; (unless it have his advantage for its 
object;) for, putting full failh in it, he takes his measures ac- 
cordingly, and is, perchance, thereby ruined. As to the pro- 
miser, he is like the keeper, who amused the spectators of 
his lion by putting bis head into the animal's mouth. Thii 
he did frequently, and got it out in safety, until, at last, the 
lion, in a fit of ill-humour, bit it off. Your word ought to 
dearer lo you than your head: beware, then, how you put" 

.he J 


into the lion's mouth. If it were proposed to you to save 
your lives by a lie^ and either of you had the weakness to 
consent, I should pity him, but, at the same time» dapue 
him from my very soul. From all this, you will readily in- 
fer how dangerous it is to be the depository of a secret 
Curiosity, my dear bojrs, is a powerful passion, but bewaie 
of entering into stipulations with any one for indulging it He 
who discloses his secret to another, is generally supposed to 
do that person a favour ; but how falsely, a few moments' coih 
sideration will show. He who ofiers to confide a secret k 
you, takes a great liberty, and, in fact, asks you to do him i 
great favour, that of keeping it, which none but a friend hai 
any claim to do. You would be safer, and act a less fooUdi 
part, to promise to keep his money for him, at your own risk, 
and refund what might be lost or stolen, because you would 
be sure that it was in your exclusive custody, whereas, the 
secret may be, and, probably, has been, intrusted by the pos- 
sessor to others besides yourself, and, when he finds it divulged,' ' 
you arc involved in the general suspicion. But this is not alL 
You lay yourself open to embarrassment in many ways. Sup- 
pose William Gerard Hamilton had confided to you that he 
was the author of the letters of Junius, and you should be 
•questioned about it. If Hamilton were your friend, you would 
have no hesitation, for it would be your duty, boldly to un- 
dertake the preservation of his secret, and faithfully to per- 
form it; but why all this for a stranger? unless that stranger 
be friendless, and have qualities to recommend him to your 
'Osteem or compassion. Having become the depository of a 
^cret, it must be preserved^ at whatever risk. It cannot be 
betrayed without infamy. He who does it is a perjured 
traitor. Well ! you are asked, '* Do you know the author 
of Junius ?" You may reply, (because it is an unfair ques- 
tion,) " What right have you to inquire V* But, suppose Ha- 
milton to be suspected, and you^ being in habits of particu- 
lar intimacy with him, are supposed to know, and are di- 
rectly asked <^ Is not William Gerard Hamilton the author 
of Junius 7*^ What's to be donet If you falteri or are 


it, you betray your friend aa efiectually as if you aii» 
rered affirmatively, •' He U." This is a painful predicament, 
:ed, to an ingenuous mind. You cannot betray your friend 
Nritbout incurring the blackest guilt. Your obligation lo him 
18 anterior to the other, and supersedes it ; for the condition 
upon which you were trusted was that you should not disclose 
it, and that condition embraces this very case. You have 
Vaea stipulated with him that if you are asked the questiour 
yon will my " so,' and endeavour to look " so." This stipu- 
lation is virtually contained in that to keep the secret. Your 
part then is decided : you give a firm denial ; — the only case 
in which it is permitted to violate truth, and that for its pre- 
■ervation. But, rememher, there must be oo concealed guilt 
in that latent truth. When the Persian youth were taught to 
draw the bow, to speak the truth, and to keep a secret, (which, 
in fact, is nothing but adhering to the truth, the divulger be- 
ing, at once, a liar and a traitor,) they overran all the west- 
em Asia; but when they became corrupt and unfaithful to 
their word, a handful of Greeks was an over-tnatch for mil- 
lions of them- A liar is always a coward. 1 have thus, my 
dear boys, thrownout, at greater length than I intended, some 
prtsciples for your consideration. Keep this letter, and read 
it again — but do not show it; not that i am ashamed of liy 
but it is not right to show letters, or repeat private conversa- 
tion, except in very particular circumstances. Never do it, 
until you are old enough to judge of those circumstances] and 
then with scrupulous delicacy. 

On Saturday, the river was almost as low as it was last 
aummer, and, by the middle of the next day, there was the 
highest fresh that has been known since August, 1796, the 
month before you were born, my dear Buona. Do you know 
that there are Sorecs (vulgo Soarusses) here. 1 killed one in 
the ice-pond, just before I went to Roanoke, and Mr. Wood- 
son tells me that he has killed four, besides a great many or- 
tolans. I returned from Roanoke, after a fortnight's absence, 
last night, and, whilst there, i killed ortolans in abundance. 
This puts me in mind, my dear Theodore, to request that you 

ice. I 

fou I 




will bring me the articles of whicti you have a list Bobjoiiieil. 
God bless you both, my dear baja. 

Your foiid uncle, 

Mr. T. B. DuDLKv and T. T. Ranuolfh. 

My complimeuta to Dr. H. I am sorry to see bis Latia mat- 
ters changed so often. 

Call at Mr, Charles Johnston's, and inquire whether Qim 
are any letters there for me. Also, whether there is UtJ 
news of the ships Calpe, Desdemona, or RoUat — or any late 

KoDi London! Bring me, also, the last ncwspi 


^__^ Nov. 15, ] 

HyDBAR Son, 

I HAVE been three long weeks at this place; 
all the time in bad health and worse spirits, and not"^ 
have 1 received from yourself or Buona. I hoped you wotim 
have informed me iiow you spent your time — what books' 
you had read — how many partridges, &c., you had killed— 
what visits you had paid or received, and, above all, how 
your cousin's health, which 1 left in the moat delicate atxtet 
stood affected. When I have strength and leisure, I wilt 
write to you fully on the subject of our last conversation: 
at present I am incapable. Mean while, for whatever you 
mt, apply to Major Scott, who will furnish you at a mo- 
ment's warning. 

Your friend, 


Uk Dr. Robinson if lie received a letter from me. 



Georgetoun, Nov. 27, 1807, 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

Yo0R letter has afforded me a pleasure which I ne- 
ver fail to receive from your communications. Your pre- 
aent situation, my son, is not esactly that which I would 
wish, but I cannot select one more eligible, at this time. If, 
however, you make a proper use of your present opportu- 
nity, slender as it is, you cannot fail to derive much useful 
information from it. You are now of an age, my dear boy, 
when the mind, no longer passive to impression, begins to 
exert itself. The elements of knowledge are within your- 
self, and the rest, of course, within your reach. We, all of 
us, have two educations; one which we receive from others 
— another, and the most valuable, which we give ourselves. 
It ia this last which fixes our grade in society, which deter- 
mines, eventually, our actual value in this life, and, perhaps, 
the colour of our fate hereafter. Yes, my dear Theodore, 
your destiny is in your own hands; nor would all the pro- 
fessors and teachers in the world make you a wise and good 
man without your own co-operation; and, if such you are 
determined to be, it is not the want of them that can pre- 
vent it 

Tou are mistaken in supposing that there are no English 
books in the press, the key of which I left with you; behind 
the Encyclopsedia are some cumbrous folios, none of Ihem 
deserving your attention, except, perhaps, Rapin; but, in 
the upper division, you will find, behind Voltaire and Rous- 
seau, nearly a hundred volumes, amongst which are Hume, 
Belsham, and many others, which I consider as standard 
works that you cannot be too well acquainted with. There 
is a little manuscript catalogue of them on the shelf; and, if 
you will send it me, I will mark such as you would do well 
to read, noting the order. There are, besides, the books ii 
the cabinet, to say nothing of your lexicon, aVWaes, ^^- , 


would advise yoa, in reading, to consdt the EneylopmS^ 
when you meet with a difficult article; alwaya roaortiog fiop 
the meaning of words, which you do not underotand, to Ae 
Dictionnaire de PAcademie, in the first instance^ and nefv 
to the French and English dictionary, but from necessity. 
It will enlarge your knowledge of the language, more thsD 
you are aware of. I would recommend, too, frequent trans* 
htions from the French, which, when the original has faded 
from your mind,, you may retranriate in your own style^ and 
then compare it with your author. 

I rejoice to hear of yoor amusement with your gun, and 
that you are regaining yoor skill. I hope erett Buona 
will soon come to beat me on the wing. Give my love tO' 
him: I long to see his rosy cheeks. My love, also, to< 

God bless you, my dear boy. 

I am your fond uncle, 


Theodorick Bland Dudley. 

Write by the Orleans mail. Remember me kindly t» 
the Doctor and Mrs. R., and to Hodijah, also. Tell the ibi^ 
mer 1 have seceived his letter, and- thank him for iti 


Mt dear Theodore, 

I WAS more mistaken than I thought I was, in respect? 
to the English books in the press, the keys of which I left^ 
jatL Bat I trust you have enough to employ you until my 
I hvpe^ Kterallf , nothing, my dear boy, to say to* 



you, except to express mj unceaeing aolicitude for your wel- 
fare. Having made a party to shoot to-morrow, 1 feared I 
might not have time on my return to write even a few lines, 
which I feel confident you are always glad to receive from 
Your affectionate friend, 

Der. 19, ISOT.' 

I HAV£ just received your letter of the I7(h, ancl 
thank you for it, as I am always gratified at hearing from 
you. Perhaps you could not do belter than to begin Hume 
(as you have read it once) with the reign of Elizabeth, and 
read with attention that important period, and also the reign 
-of Charles I., the Protectorate, and Charles and James TI. 
The civil wars cannot be studied too deeply, 

I have very pleasing intelligence of your old companion 
St George. He was well, at Paris, on the S5th of October; 
has made great proficiency in drawing, and will soon begin 
sculpture on fine stones, (seals, &c.,) and painting- 
Voltaire is a most sprightly, agreeable writer, but not al- 
ways to he depended upon for facts. His Charles XII. and 
Peter are his most accurate works. The Si^cle de Louis 
XIV. Is, upon the whole, not an unfaithful history; and, as a 
picture of the manners of that age, is unique. Compare 
the Dutch now, with what they were Ihen. I sometimes 
try to believe that their present degradation is a visitation of 
God for the massacre of the De Witts. May we, my dear 
*0D, take warning of the fate of that once powerful r 
Jic Their crue) task-master is now forging chains fi 

ful repub- j 

s for UB. i 


Ck>d bless you— «nd make you good, tnd leftmed^ a 
happy. The two first are in your own power. 

Your fond uncle, and friend, 



My dear Thsodorb, 

I HAVE barely time to thank you for your letter, with 
its accompaniment. You have retained the French idiom 

in several instances in your version of Miss M 's letter. 

You must, my dear son, be in want of various things neces- 
sary to your time of life. Enclosed is a trifle, which may 
assist in supplying some of them. 
My love to Tudor and Sally. 



Theodore Bland Dudley. 


Georgetown, Jan, 31, 1809. 


You have given me cause to complain of you. Yoa 
have, indeed, assigned as a reason for your silence, the want 
of a subject on which to write. But surely you might send 
me some traodaiioii) Laiuiy French, or English, which 


Bild serve to amuse a solitary hour, (for I am almost with- 
out society or books,) and afford proof of your application. 
I do most earnestly exhort you both to a proper employ- 
ment of your time — which, now misspent, is for ever lost. 

When you see Hodijah, remember me very cordially to 
him. I have sometimes hoped that he would write to me; 
but it scema I flattered myself in vain. 

God bless you both : let me know how you employ y 

Your affectionate uncle, 

B. DtTDLEr and T, T. Randolph. 


Georgetown, Feb. 12, 1809.- 

Mt dbar Theodore, 

AjirDST other causes of uneasiness, which press upon 
me in my present situation, 1 have not been exempt from 
much concern on your account. I fear, my son, that too 
much, not only of your time, but of your attention, is es- 
tranged from those objects to which they ought to be almost 
exclusively directed. Do you know from what circum- 
Btances I have drawn this unpleasant inference? — from your 
writing so seldom, and, when you do, malting no mention 
of tlie books which you have read, much less expressing any 
opinion concerning them. By this time, I suppose you 
must have finished Hume and Belsham. Endeavour, I be- 
seech you, to acquire a minute knowledge of English histo- 
ry, especially since the accession of the House of Stuart. 
Next take up Robertson's Scotland, which, with more pro- 
priety, might be entitled his history of Mary. The life of 


Charles V., by the nine authori and Rnaaell'a Modem ESo* 
rope, will give you a tolerable outline of the hiaCorj of Ae 
continental nations, and a review of Gibbon's Dedioe nl 
Fall will afford the connexion between the ancient and ai- 
dern worlds. All these books you will find in the eabiaet 
Do not, however, permit history to engross your atte^ia 
to the exclusion of languages. You may keqi alive, ni 
even improve your knowledge of Liatin and French hy t 
Tery simple but obvious method. On one day trandate iaii 
English a passage from some easy author, Csosar or Tab* 
machus, for example; and, on the next, restore them to tb 
original language: then compare your version with the book, 
and by it correct, with your pen, all inaccuracies. This wiH 
impress the thing more deeply on your mind. At the same 
time, continue to read the more difficult authors, such as 
Horace and Livy, (this last is in the cabinet,) with your di^ 
tionary. You will find Le Sage's Atlas a great help in yoiff 
historical researches. When you see Dr. Robinson, yoo 
may consult him on any difficult passage in the classics. Do 
not, I beseech you, give up your Greek grammar, even li 
you retain nothing but declensions and conjugations. 

Since I began this letter, yours of the 4th has beea 
brought to me. You do not mention the receipt of a bank 
note which I sent you some weeks ago. I hope it came to 
hand. How does the stock fare this bad weather? Are the 
Sans-Culottes fillies in good plight? An account of mattsn 
on the plantation might supply the subject of a letter. Hov 
is poor old Jacobin? and all the rest of the houyhnhnms? I 
hope you will plant out some trees this spring, west and 
north of the old house. 

Adieu, my dear Theodore. I am, in truth, your afifoO' 
tionate kinsman and friend, 


Thbodorb B. Dddlby. 

ird nothing firom your fiUher, or mother, sii 
Ftefaaps a letter, addressed to them, <^ 


Nashville, Tenneasee," would reach ihem. When you 
write, present me to them all, and particularly to Fanny. 
•Apropos: — are you aware that your letters, to me, woultl 
constitute an improving exercise to you, if you could pre-< 
vail upon yourself to write every week. You can never, 
affirm it, be at a loss for a subject. The occurrences of the 
ireek, your own studies, the reflections of your mind upon 
particular subjects, form inexhaustible topics for your com- 
i munications. What have /to write about, more than your- 
Belf? What portion of this letter consists of narrative of 

i fectfc 




oarrative of 

■h. 38, 180S; ^1 


Youa last letter gave me unusual satisfaction. Con- 
tinue, I beseech you, my son, to afford me the same gratifi- 
estion every week. An account of your studies, and even 
ef your amusements, would at all times serve to amuse me, 
at least — and must always be a subject of interest to me. i 
am miable, to-day, to do more tlian express my wishes that 
your time may pass both profitably and pleasantly; for, al- 
though the fin^iess of the day has tempted me to take ao 
airing in a carriage, I do not feel at all the better for it. I 
am glad to hear that you have, at last, received intelligence 
of your parents and family, and beg you to remember me 
to them all, when you write. 

Greet the Doctor in my name, and tell him that I wa» 
much concerned to see, by the papers, that he has lost the 
locks of his fowling-piece, and shall be glad to hear that he 
has found them again. My best regards, also, to Mrs. R,, 
and tell het I hope my little friend Will is well, although I 


am iorry to learn that I am likely to loae him as s netg^ 
boor. Commeod me to Hodijah, who, I hope, haa not £v- 
gotten me* 

Adieu, my dear Theodore^ and believe me^ with the moit 
unfeigned regard. 

Your friend and kiosman, 


TaBODORieK ftjkim Dudley. 
My love to Sally. 


Georgetown, March 6, 1806;. 
Mt nsAR BoTS, 

I INTENDED to havc Written to each of you to-day, and 
at considerable length, but I have passed a very bad night, 
and fiod myself too much disordered to do more than say,. 
How do you do ? and express my earnest wishes for your well 
being. My complaint, I believe, is a rheumatic fever; for I 
am never free from flying pains, and am very feverish. Give 
my love to your mother, my dear Buona, and tell her that I 
will endeavour to send her your brother's drawings (some of 
them, at least) by Mr. Earle, of South Carolina, brother to 
him who once called at Bizarre to see me. He is not in Con- 
gress, but came here a few days since, on business; and he 
tells me that he will return about the middle of next week^ 
As he travels in a chair, I hope he will be able to take the 
drawings on with him. I wrote to your mother yesterday, 
by the Orleans mail. 

My dear boys, remember me to all our neighbours, when 
you see them: the Doctor and Mrs. Robinson, Mr. Dillon,. 
Mr^ WotdfODj^ Mrtf Johnrton and tamHy. Be particular in 


^enti^ping me to Hodijah and Tom Murray, whom I thank 
for his kind remembrance of me. God bless you both, and 
believe me, in truth, 

Your affectionate uncle, 

Messrs. Tniro. B. Dudley and T. Tudor Randolph. 

My love to Sally^ 


Oeorgetown, March 13, 1808< 
My dbar Theodore, 

Your two letters, of the 28th of February and 6th of 
March, both arrived by the same post It gives me great 
pleasure, my dear son, to see you so well employed; but, at 
the same time, I must point out to you some traces of n^li- 
gence, as well as some errors in your translations. 

« Benefit'^ for "bencBt;" " insllfferable '' (I have tried to 
imitate the character) for insufferable. '^ Enough resources^ 
or room, or ©/"troops. " Adverbs of quantity govern the ge- 
nitive; but this is awkwardly expressed. You have rein 
dered the difficult passage very well; although rather too 
much in the Latin idiom. This fault, time will correct I 
find it in your French translations also. I would have said 
<< should not be refused bi/ any," although it is in the dative^ 
*< se vindicare in liberiaiem;^^ restore themselves to liberty , 
or vindicate their liberty, is more literal, and equally ele- 
gant with ^^ obtain their liberty, ^^ ^nAy therefore, better* 
*^ Least'' is not an English conjunction; it should he lest. 
Consult Home Tooke for this word. The Index in the se- 
cond volume (I believe) will refer you to the page where it 
is to be found. ** Marcus Anthony:" we say Mark Aniho" 


I.KTTeitS ov 

or Marcus ^ntomuM. " Hive began " is not Qomel; 
n i* the imperfect laow — be^n ia tlic perrect 
fl'teufaut beaucoup"— far from il.OT,mueAisteant- 
" Tho Primalp, who served so much to ihe cIe|Misii^ 
jBtuii" it should be of Augustus: but, moreorer, ihii 
ish smells of French loo strongly: who etonlrihuied so 
I, would have been better. Also, *'1he expoditioa 
nff (rather Ihan (v/") Copenhagen." "Tbe»>w/rwf/«MM 
which I have worked, French idiom again: Jnforma- 
—have wriltnn or huiU. " Jl i.inola history, far from 
It Mfy arc excellent materials." Here is a false concord, 
handwriting is very illegible. For want of the original, 
'fi not been able to correct as well as I could have wished; 
jy looking over it yourself, you will see where my re- 
s apply- And now, my dear Theodore, let me thank 
which 1 do most sincerely, for your letters, and request 
liar continuance of them. In a short time, my dear boy, 
je you will bo in u more eligible situation for prosecuting 
studies. Vou might be in a much worse, in any school 
within your reach, unless your old one has (as I hope) 



Sahtrday, March 18, ISOB. 

VoD were not mrstaken, my dear Theodore, in supposing 
that I was unwell. I have been, and am, very much disor- 
dered wilhin the last week; but you were mtslaken in as- 
cribing youi- not hearing from me to thai cause. Tor I have 
written to you very regularly. I wish, if you hear any news 
of your mother, or her family, to let me know how they all 
do, and, when you write, to present me lo them all, espe- 
cially to your sister Fanny, for whom 1 feel peculiar regard. 

I am surprised to hear that the stock, horses especially, 
will be poor, since there was such plenty of hay and corn. 
I hope Mr. Galding will atlend to poor little Minikin. 

In the hurry of my last, I forgot to note, in one of your 
translations from Ciesar, (of March 6th,) the following inac- 
curaciea; " Inlol/erable;" "winterings" for winter-quar- 

In the translation from Voltafre, of March 13th: «I yet 
wait an extract " — -for an extract v/ooM have been better. 
" I, who's intention " — now, always written whose. In the 
traoBlation from Cffisar, of the same dale: " AmbusAcades" 
for ambuscades. We say ambush, but not ambusncade or 
ambus/i.^cade, but ambuscade. 

The negotiation with Mr. Rose, the British minister, is at 
an end. But you are no politician, I believe; and I hope 
{for your sake) you never maybe. Remember me affection- 
ately to Sally, and to Hodijah and Tom Murray. The Doc- 
tor and his charming wife, I hope, have not forgotten me, al- 
though I fear my little friend William has. My best regards 
to them all. 

Adieu, my dear Theodore. 

Yours, mOBt truly, 


Ur. Theodorick Bland Dudlev. 


By tbii Cime, I hope ycu hare been gnlified with a tight 
of St George's* #mwingi: tell me what yoa think of then. 


Mr dear Theodore will exciue the shortneaa of this har- 
ried letter, in consideration of the fatigue which has almost 
entirely exhausted me. I thank you, my son, for your in- 
telligence respecting your mother and her family. Do not 
forget to remember me to her, and all of them, when you 
write* Tou have spelled the present participle of this verb 
with a g and an A, thus, << wri^Ating" — ^both supernumerary 
letters; — the last of which you have cut ofif from the poor 
preposition through — often written thro% but never but 
once, ''throug:'* ** which evil fell /o," instead of upon, &c. 

I have sent you and Tudor four fish-hooks, worth four 
thousand of the common sort. Adieu. 

Yours, truly, 


Mr. Theodore Bland Dudley. 
My best love to Sally. 

Hb oldett nephew was unfortunately deaf and dumb. 



Salmdatf, April 23J, ISOa ^^H 
Half past Jive. ^^^M 

I Mt deak Theodore, 

This is, probably, the last lelter which I shall write 

Ifcr some time to come, from this place, at least; but, I coald 

I not refrain from letting you all know Ihat I am not quite 

>dead, although nearly so, with the intolerable fatigue of my 

ftlkte mode of life. I shall leave Georgetown on Tuesday 

' morning, and, if I do not take Richmond in my way, shall 

reach Bizarre by dinner time, on Saturday: in which event 

I shall bring two or three of my Georgia friends with me. 

Give my best love to your cousin Judy, and apprize her o 

this. God bless you all. 

Yours, truly, 

T. B. Dudley. 



Xov. 2, 1809. 

I AM about to leave you once more, my dear boys, 
with sensations of regret that I know not how to describe. 
You, however, 1 trust, will diminish that which I now feel, 
and assuage many more that may be in store for me, by an 
adherence to that propriety of conduct which I have so often 
delighted to observe in you. Cherish, I beseech you, mutual 
love and kindness. Let no childish and unseemly bicker- 
ings disturb your peace, and that of my sister. There is 
one point on which I fear for you both — want of exertion 
I the prosecution of your studies. Upon vigorous and 


steady tpplicatioiiy til hopes of your future adranoeiimt 
depend. Your hourft of study must be fixed, and not bro- 
ken in upon by others, or wasted in lassitude and indolence. 
Read Lord Chatham's Lietters again. Think that I apeak to 
you in his words — accustom yourselyes to act, as if in the 
presence of some friend, whose approbation you are aolicitooi 
to gain and preserve. You are, indeed, never out of the 
view of a superintending Providence, by whom all your ac- 
tions are scanned. Keep this eternal truth always in mind. 
Do right, and you cannot fail to be as happy as our defective 
nature will permit the sons of men to be. Be true to you^ 
selves and to each other, and, in the course of your journey 
through life, you will find more aid and comfort in the friend- 
ship formed in your boyish days, than wealth and grandeur 
can afibrd. God bless you both — yon shall hear from me 
soon when my mind is more at rest 

Your fond uncle, 



Cfmrgetown^ Dec, 4, 1806, {Sunday.) 

My dear Theodore, 

Your letter reached me yesterday, but I find myself 
too much disordered to do more than thank you for it I am 
very sorry that your socks were omitted. The readiest way 
to supply the defect will be to take mine, which you will 
find in the upper drawer of my desk, and I will procure 
others in their room. They are almost new. With reqiect 
to the military school, about to be established in Farmville, I 
should like to know something of its professors before I 
would consent to your becoming a pupil, even if I approved 
the 'uadixkHonyWhieh I do not. 1 therefore hope that you 


will curb your military spirit for the present. If ever yoi 
are attached to an army, I hope it will be in the capacity a 
a surgeon — a curer, not an inflictor of wounds. 

Farewell, my dear boy. My love to your sister, ; 
cousin, and Tudor. I am not positively ii'cA/ but weak, gid- 
dy, and what is worse (I fear) low-spirited. For this last 
disease there is unfortunately neither physician nor med^. 

Yours, affectionately, 


Hr DBAR Theoe 


GeoTgelown, Dec. 11, ISM. 
R Theodore, 

Oh looking over my letters from home I perceive that 
your last is dated on the 30th of November. As the several 
mails afford you three distinct channels for writing every 
week, I cannot but feel somewhat neglected by you. You 
complain of the waot of a theme; cannot you (to say nothing 
of family affairs and neighbourhood incidents) give me your 
opinion of some interesting character whom you have met 
with in history, or of the historian himself, or any other au- 
thor whom you may have read. Nay, a translation from the 
Xiatin and French, alternately, would be acceptable. 

I must request you to hear Tudor a lesson in the Greek 
grammar every day, and not to permit him to say it until he 
can repeat it perfectly. I would have you read Horace 
(with Francis' translation) three times a week. With Rus- 
sell's Modern Europe there will be no propriety in mingling 
ancient history. After you have finished it, you may refresh 
yourself in ancient history with RoUin, which Tom Murray j 


wQl lend you, or which you can have sent down from Roiii- 
oke. In reading Russell, I advise you to make a amall ehio- 
nological table of the mast remarkable contemporary evenli 
and celebrated men. This will prevent the confusion of 
mind which skipping from subject to subject, is othenm 
almost sure to occasion. You will find Le Sage's Atlas of 
great benefit, also. In French, I recommend to you Voltaire'i 
History of Russia, if (as I believe) you have not read it 

My best love to your sister and cousin, and to Tudor. Do 
not fail to present me, in the most friendly terms, to Doctor 
and Mrs. R., and Tom, and to our good neighbour Mr. Dil- 
lon, also. When you see Mr. Woodson, make my respecti 
to him, and tell him that my shooting days are, I fear, over. 
Farewell, my dear Theodore, 

I am your afiectionate friend 

and kinsman, 


Theodorigk Bland Dudley. 

I still continue weak and giddy; writing is particularly op- 
pressive to me. I send my sister some more papers. I trust 
they will serve to amuse her. 

When I inquire whether you have delivered my messages^ 
I hope I shall not have the mortifying answer that you for- 
got to do it 


House of Representatives, Dec* 19, 1806L 

Your letter was duly received, and I sincerely thank 
yoa for it I have not time, my dear son, to do more, except 


to request that you will give me some account of the daily^ 
and regular employment of your time. Your cousin Judy 
sends me very flattering accounts of your progress in short- 
ening, which reminds me to ask you to take out my new 
double-barrelled gun, on some clear j dry day, and with a 
small tovy wad, on the end of a long ram-rod, wipe the ante- 
chamber dry and clear. 

My love to your cousin, your sister, and Tudor, and be- 
lieve me, with true regard. 

Your friend and kinsman, 


I send your cousin the last Intelligencer, of this morning's 
date, and some other interesting papers. The narrative of 
Don P. Cevallos is well worth perusal. 

Remember me to the Doctor and family. 


Dec. ^ 180€f. 
Mt dear Bors, 

You must not think that I neglect you. I have bare- 
ly time to thank you for your letters, and to request that 
you will continue to write to me, regularly once a week. 
My health and avocations will,^ I fear, preclude me from be- 
ing as good a correspondent as I have heretofore been; but 
you must not mind that Give my love to your mother, 
xny dear Tudor. I wrote to her by the Orleans mail yester- 
day, (which brought me no letter,) and sent her a book; 
Scott's Lay of the last Minstrel. Give my love, also, to 
Sally, my dear Theodore, and to your friends in Tennessee, 


when yoa write to them. Enclosed, is a Chrisimai-bos^ 
which you will divide between you. Adieu, my soni. 

Yours, in haste, 


My best regards to the Doctor, Mrs. R. , and Tom** 


Dec. 90, 180a 
My dear Theodore, 

I THANK you for your letter, but not for your trans- 
lation. It bears every mark of the hand of negligence, and I 
beg that I may receive no more of such careless and hurried 
performances. " Nonum premaiur in annumj^ is the max- 
im of the great Roman critic. I do not see, therefore, why 
you should not keep your compositions at least half as many 
days; instead of sending me what you have just scribbled off, 
in a hurry, without time, perhaps, to read it over once; for 
I observe that the post mark and date of your letter are the 
same. It is hard to say whether the Latin or English be most 
defective. We have ** volente " for volenies; " obliquam '* 
for obliquum; " ratae" for rotsBj &c. ; besides many words 
written in an indistinct character, well adapted to conceal in- 
accuracies of termination. <^ Junctamq. aquitonibus arc- 
ton^' — "and the bear^om to it on the north," is neither 
the sense, nor is it grammar: joined to what ? polem austra- 
tern? By no means; but exactly the reverse. We do not 
say ^^ tracks of the wheels ;^^ '^ track of the wheeV^ is the- 
coachman's phrase. But the worst is yet to come. << Ut* 

*• Ymmf ,lfr. lAiniyjwlio was reading medicine with Dr. Robinaon. 

joiiN handolph. 1^1 

'QUE Jerant xQtros et calum and terra calores;" and as 
heaven and earth enjoy (or receive) equal heat, which you 
render "and aa both heaven and earth are nourished by the 
warmth of the horses." Equos for aquos; but there is no 
«iicli adjective as eqims. It makes, if I forget not, equinm. 
Can you believe, too, that you have made an English word 
of aram? (to satisfy you I enclose the original,) thus: a ram. 
A ram, too, of all the animals in the world, is, it seems, fe> 
minioe; "pressAtng. aram," says Ovid; hut he, perchance, 
did not understand Latin. In your next, I flatter myself 
that you will give me a proof of what you allege in one of 
your late letters, " that you have grown more attentive tl 
formerly." In this expectation, I remain 

Your affectionate kinsman and friend, 


T. B. DttDLET. 

I have no objection to your going with your cousin \ 


Qeori^elown, Jan. 13, ISOftV 

Yo0B letter of the Slh reached me this j 
had anticipated your mortification at the sight of c 
the translation enclosed in it; nor have I been disappointed. 
You, my son, I trust, will acquit me of any unnecessary or 
wanton injury to your feelings, which I would forbear to 
wound, aa if they were my own. It is only to heal, that I 
would probe, i confidently expect, therefore, by tlie next 
post, a proof of the good effect of your own judicious re- 
flections upon the disagreeable subject of my last. Your 


own good sense, my dcir boy, — if you give it fkir plsyr— 
baektd hy industry, will ensure you a competent degree of 
proficiency in whatsoever pursuit you may engage. But, to 
choose a more agreeable theme: — I am glad to hear, from 
your cousin Judy, that you did not so suffer from the cold on 
your journey from Clifton, but that you have been able to 
enjoy the fine exercise of skating since your return home. 
You will not fail, I hope, to harden yourself by active ex- 
posure in the open air, against the diseases to which a sedea- 
tary life is subject This may be done without intrenchiif 
too much on study. << Omne iulii punciumj qui miicidt 
utile dulci.** May you, my dear boy, who are a grelt 
marksman, hit this happy medium. I write under conside- 
rable indisposition, and with two gentlemen talkii^ around 
me, and often to he. I must, therefore, ask your excuse 
for my incoherence, and abrupt conclusion. 
I am, as ever. 

Your affectionate kinsman and friend, 


Thxo. Bland Dudley. 

My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. R., and Tom Murray, 
and my love to Sally. Have you seen any woodcocks this 
season? I have not heard of more than one that has been 
shot; and that was by Mr. Garnet, just after the meeting of 
Congress — which I saw. 



Library of Congress, Jan. 17, 1809. 
R. Theodore, 

Your letfer of tho 13th arrived this morning, and I 
trust ihe apprehension it expresses has beer dispelled by my 
last; although, to say the truth, I was by no maans pleased. 
Your translation hears scarcely any resemblance to its pre- 
deceaaor; being, with a single exception, Kterally correct: 
which proves that when you commit gross errors, it is not 
from a want of ability to avoid them; and, indeed, impresses 
mo with a belief that, when you c/ioose, you can e.vcel 
"Labour is necessary to excellence." Without the one, 
the other never did, nor can exist, in any pursuit of human 
life. But, to my criticism: — invito parenti is improperly 
rendered by " desponding father." I do not find that 
invitvs is ever used in that sense. Such, certainly, was not 
Opid's meaning, " He returns thanks to his rduclant fa- 
ther;" to his father, unwilliTig to trust him with the cha- 

I must still urge you to endeavour to attain that great de- 
sideratum of writing — distinctness of character; a more im- 
portant point than you are, perhaps, aware of. The want of 
it is particularly to be remarked in your writing, where m, 
n, and u come together. Thus, the word cHamnvnt is 
written somewhat like this — cttammun. This proceeds 
from leaving more space between the members of the same 
letter than between the letters themselves; and from a very 
ridiculous, though common practice (I might say affectation) 
of turning the n and v, in the same way — Uius, u u. By 
giving due space between your letters and words, and wri- 
ting uprightly, and with the point of your pen, holding it 
as nearly perpendicular to the paper as possible, your object 
rill be gained, if you examine print, you will find iti 
pat legibility to be owing to the \en^\vot ft«bo4y «&Jft " 



. I fcKS Of 

.. •»///%,).:-: "..: 1 --r:lar space 
.1^ iii'l ;•■•:* • - • ::.vely. I 
..• -.ImiuM r-:: — : - ~.ore with 
..iiKi ii fc:;-. :■•. - r-jover, he 
..V. will. i-. - :•; :••: : -:-.-:her ille- 

. .K .ml -A . -. -. r :• : : 1 ♦ .? ■ : r y : as soon, 

....11 ( iol-i? :..... • . • : - -? - vrry concise 

ji.j.tiion, i: L :iz.:.:". _-:*.-.:. y:.u long, I 

. .li- ami h-r.j.-.i— . I -v.-.. zz.T.z you Mr. 

» .1 I leturr. :. :r.i. I: .? :-: :-. fragment— 

.a.« 4iin:. I: ::r:^:"-« >:r.-: ir.rcrur.t errors 

.1.11^; Charles ir.I Ji—rf II.. who had not 

iKK'i'Hii to ih'j ir.:'srz:i:l:r- I'roni which Mr. 

, lai 'riHKjriore. 

I am, very truly, yojrs, 


.. WlASl) Dldlev. 

'M- ii» your si.'iter, and cousin Judy, and Tudor. 
lie rcnollectiou of our neighbours Robinsons 


Georgetown, June 18, 1809. 

.N.^su*^ |"»Nt brought me your letter of the 15th 
.%, .» I ^^**''* **^° much occupied to thank you for 
^ ^..x \\«u^ to scribble u few lines to your cousin 
. ^y^i, I Imvc scarcely more leisure to-day. I 



am, indeed, oppressed with labours, to which my undivided 
exertions are inadequate. I highly commend the manner in 
which you speak of your sense of the obligations which you 
owe your cousin. The sentiment is highly honourable ta 
you, my son; and is, in itself, the noblest return which you 
could make to the kindnesses which you have received from 
her. Present her and Sally with my best loye. 

Mr. Hall must exercise his own discretion, under the dr- 
rectioQ of Mrs. Randolph, in relation to the objects of hia 
duty. I hope that old Caesar has taken all the mares, &c., to> 

I enclose you a paper, which, when you have read it,^ 
please to send to our good neighbour Mr. Dillon; and ask 
him to return those which I have enclosed him, {if he ha9 
no use for themf) that you may file them. I hope Louisa 
does not neglect to sun my clothes, &c.; particularly the pad 
of my new saddle. Charge her to take care that they are 
not exposed to rain, or dew. 

Grod bless you, my son. Continue to write to me; and 
be a little more copious on the subject of your studies and 
occupations. Even your sports have an interest for me. — 

Your friend and kinsman, 


Have you any tidings of my dirk?^ 


[ joa for jroor letten ■• maA* at yvm l» 
e Bod reprd; bat I coald wruli to ace ta Uaas e» 
a of joar nadiog snd olaesTaliaa. Yoor hit, for at 
r^qilei eoataiu ool j a Kanly page, loeoelf written, in «riiiA 
mmcatioa ■• made of your stadia, aDdiiaGcoin|niual(Ae 
|)m tiro preeediBg il) by do exereiae^ Amtmd this de&e^ I 
pnyjoa. , 

Did I cautjon ;ou apiost mixiiig ancient wiili modem liii- 
lory? Avoid it, l>y all meaiu. It is ss penudoits m ibe 
reading of difierent histories of the suae, or cooleapntiy 
ercDti, if the reverse. I recommended RaUlo, beeauae he wiB 
give you a preUy good gtntrat notion of the more andait 
nationa, and a tolerable account of Aiexander's succesmSi 
eodoemini; whom our compilations are very defecUre. Thii 
oatlioe, however, ts not always correct Of him and Bishop 
Newton, who wrote on the prophecies, it has been remarked 
that *' both these authors represent Herodotus as a fabler;— 
Xeuophon'a Cyropxtdia," a romance which probably served 
B model for Fenelon's Telemachus, "as history; — Isai- 
b prophecies, as jpplyiug to the siege of Babylon, by Cy- 
d of that by Darius; — and Darius aa having pre- 
t Aitysges: four notorious and fundamental historical 
Indeed, compilations are, generally, but a sort 
wlogy for history. The original authors ought, in all 
be consulted, when practicable. Thus, Herodotus, 
Vdidcs, Polybius, and Livy, should be read, in prefer- 
B to ihoog ^yjio have made books, merely by pillaging 
"B tnvaluablo ancients. I have passed a very bad night. 


The pain (io my side, particularly,) ia mucii increased, 
must, therefore, bid you fareweil. 

I am your friend and kinsman, 

Theosorice Bland Dddlet. 

Take core of the New York Herald, which I enclosed your 
cousin last night. Remember me kindly to the Doctor and 
Mrs. Robinson, and Tom Murray, and little Will. Also, to 
Mr. Dillon. 

There was a sudden change of weather in the course of 
last nighL It is raw and cold. A litlle snow has fftllen, and 
we are threatened with more. I hope this is the source of 
my increased pain. Tell your cousin so. My love to her 
and Sallj, and Tudor. 




Hojue ofRepretenlatives, Feb. 25, 1809. 

Mt dsab Theodobe, 

YoDH letter (of theaoth, if I mistake rot,) was re- 
ceived last night You speak of not hearing from me, not re- 
collecting that I might, with greater propriety, make the 
same complaint of you, who are incommoded neither by il! 
health, nor incessant labour. This is probably the last letter 
which you will receive from me whilst I remain here. God 
be praised! our next communication will (with his blessing) 
he verbal. I rejoice, my dear boy, at the prospect of so soon 
■eeingyou all. I have no time to criticise your translation; 
indeed, I have it not with me. I enclosed you, this morning, 
a newspaper in French. You may amuse yourself in trans- 



OeargetoiDn, AprU 10, 1809. 

I THANK you, my dear Theodore, for your letter; but I 
have lost, or, rather, mislaid it amongst the papers which are 
scattered in confusion over my room; and, although I have 
searched diligently for nearly an hour, cannot find it. Alas! 
I am fast growing blind. You were right in your conjee* 
lure, as to the cause of my omitting to write to you the week 
before lest; and the same might now be urged with the great- 
est propriety. 

A new map of North Carolina has lately appeared. It is 
said to be very accurate; and, in point of engraving and w<H*k- 
manship, puts the new map of Virginia to shame. It does 
honour to its editors Messrs. Price & Strother, and the gen« 
tleman under whose patronage it has been executed-*-David 
Stone and Peter Brown, esquires. If there are any copies 
for sale here, I will bring one home for Tudor and yourself. 
He is a sad fellow, for not writing to me. 

Adieu! my dear Theodore, 

Yours, truly, 


Remember me to the Doctor and lady, Tom M., and Ho« 
dijah ; also, to Mr. Dillon. 


HboM of /{qwefefitafsvf «, Jwm 24» 18061 

Mr 9BA11 Theodore, 

The Orleans mail baa joat brought me your letter of 
the 82d. I thank you very sincerely for it, and, particiihff- 
]y, for your meteorological observations; by which, I per- 
ceive, that the weather has been with you such aa we have 
experienced here — ^very wet; and, with the exeq;itioii of a 
few days, very hot My health, neverthdess, has been as 
good as I have enjoyed for many years. I believe that I 
have been too busy to find time to be sick. 

Your cousin Judy did very well in recommending Aiken's 
Letters to you. It is an excellent book. I was in hopes 
you would have given me some account of the impreasioa 
made upon you by Homer. It is more than twenty years 
since I read it, and yet the impression is vivid on my mind. 
Are you a Greek, or a Trojan? 

This is the last letter which you will receive from me, 
dated at this place. On Wednesday next, Congress adjourns. 
I shall direct to you at Roanoke. — not because I deem the 
receipt of my few hasty lines of very material consequence, 
but, because I feel a desire that you should have some me- 
mento of me, if it were only the declaration of my sincere 
love and friendship for you. I am undecided whether I 
shall go to Winchester, or not You shall hear, however, by 
the next mail. — Farewell, my dear son! 

Your fond uncle, 


T. B. Dudley. 

From Babel: Saturday, May 24, 1809: half past three 
o'clock, P. M. 

You are, probably, now on the road. — ^I pity you — for it 
is oppressively hot 



Roanoke, Thariday Night, Aug. 6, ISlOt ~2 
DkiUi Theodore, 

I HAVE just returned from Mecklenburg courts whi^ 
ther J^ went on Tuesday, leaving Echo confined here, as she 
was too much fatigued to travel so far. I have just learned 
that she went off yesterday morning with the chain upon 
her, and I fear that the poor thing may have got entangled 
with it so as to prevent her getting along; and, in that condi- 
tion, may be exposed to perish. I cannot express how much 
I am distressed at this thought. I shall, therefore, despatch 
Phil, in the morning with this letter in quest of her. 

I fear that Johnny is very ill, from hiB not having come 
up. I need not say how much pleasure it would give me to 
see you here. Bui, you appear to have (if not a disioelina- 
tton to come) so decided a preference for Bizarre, that 1 did 
not choose to put any restraint upon your inclinations. It 
is not strange that you should prefer the society of your sis- 
ter and cousins to that of a morose old man like myself. 
Phil, will return with Hyperion, My love to your cousin, 
Sally, and St. George. 

1^ Your friend and kin 


T. B. Dudley. 


Roanoke, Aug. 9. 18ia 
I THAMK you very kindly, my dear Theodore, for your 
attention to Johnny, about whom I cannot help feeling some 


uneasiDetf, altboagh I know every ore will be Uken of him. 
Yoa acted exactly as I should have done. Id sending for Dr. 
Wilson; and in every other respect better than I could have 
done. I am obliged to you^ also, my dear Theodore, for 
the intention with which you sent up poor Echo, whose re- 
treat equals that of the ten thousand under Xenophon, al- 
thoa^ Ae is not likely to have so eloquent an historian of 
A^ anabasis.* § 

I have been very unwell ever since I parted from yoo. 
My journey to Mecklenburg did me no good: by the free 
use of diluting, acidulated drinks, I am somewhat better to- 
day — able to ride out As soon as I am well enough^ I shdl 
come down to Bizarre. 

In reply to the supplement to your letter, I need not sqr 
that there is no person that I should be more glad to wee^ it 
all times, in my house, than yourself; and I believe (hers tf 
no one in the world that would be happier to see. yoe (ms 
not even your own father) than, dear Theodore,^ him wlio 
feels like a father towards you. God bless you, my son! 


Mr. Theo. B. Dudley. 

I write in the dark. Beverley and Polly reciprocate your 
good wishes. St. George will inform you of Todor's ex- 
ploit, which beats that of Xenophon or £cho. I would not 
have made the experiment for the Bank of Virginia. My 
best love to your sister. 

* The above paragraph refen to a favourite pointer, who had gone forty 
tniles with a chain attached to her neck 2 the commencement alludes to a nek 



Roanoke, Monday, Oct. 29, 1810;' 
My DEAR Theodore, 

Your letter of the 24lh arrived last night by the 
post. I could have wished that it had been a little fuller; 
but, in your hurried situation, perhaps I ought not to have 
expected more than a few lines. When you reach Philadel- 
phia, I hope to hear from you often; regularly and fully. I 
am enlillled to your confidence, my son, and let me flatter 
myself that 1 shall receive it. If, however, you cannot give 
It, there is no more lo be said; it cannot be forced: like 
mercy, " its quality is not strained;" like mercy, too, " it is 
doubly blessed;" but, to be itself, it must Qovi— freely, vo- 
luntarily: if it do not, it ia not confidence — but a base 
counterfeit; it is sheer hypocrisy. It is somewhat unfortu- 
nate for us both, my dear Theodore, that you should have 
passed so much of your time in a situation where you were 
exposed to the perils of a *' divided duty;" at least, accord- 
ing to your estimate of things. 1 assure you that nothing, 
from the commencement of the connexion between us, has 
given me so much pain, (growing out of it,) as that you 
should have offered the request, or even importunity, of 
any person in the world, as a reason for departing from the 
pointed injunctions of him, who flattered himself he had 
more weight with you than the whole world besides. I 
know nothing that I am so anxious you should acquire, 
as the faculty of saying no. You must calculate on unrea- 
sonable requests being preferred to you every day of your 
life, and must endeavour to deny with as much facility as 
you acquiesce. Thus, when that worthless fellow, Farmer, 
brought Hyperion to Bizarre, and asked you to give a re- 
ceipt for him, you ought to have said — " I did not deliver 
the horse to you, sir, and therefore cannot receive him back. 
You had better carry him to the place and person wh 



from whom you got him. At any ratei it is no part of my 
duty to give you a receipt for him, and I cannot put my 
name to an important paper merely because you ask it^ 
Rely upon it, my dear fellow, there will never be wanting 
persons to ask your signature, provided it can be had for ask- 
ing. It is a dangerous thing to put one's name to paper; 
even to witness an instrument of writing may compel yoa 
to go, or subject you to be dragged from Machias to St 
Mary's. If you had refused Farmer a receipt, he must have 
brought the horse here^ at his own risk and charge, and it 
would have appeared that he was diseased; and I have no 
doubt became so in consequence of abuse. 

By this time I flatter myself you are safely lodged in one 
of the straight flat streets of our American Birmingham. I 
am glad to hear that your financial arrangements are all aet* 
tied to your satisfaction; although I do not see how yoa 
could have been liable to any disappointment in them. Let 
me caution you to direct the post-master not to deliver your 
letters to the penny post; but let them lie in the office until 
called for by yourself, in person. You did not mention uriie- 
ther you had met with Tom Murray, or not. Give my best 
respects to him, and to any other young Virginian of merity 
whom I may know, at the medical school. I hope you will 
be established at a Pension Franfaiscj and that you will 
take lessons in fencing and dancing. I am in no fear of 
your taking the French disease in politics or morals, and 
wish you to acquire a facility in the language. 

On Wednesday I shot with Mr. Bouldin, and I never saw 
any pointer behave better than Dido, fetching the birds ex- 
cepted. I had given her some lessons in the dining-room, 
and one day's previous practice, by herself. She found the 
birds in the highest style — stood as stanchly as old Carlo — 
never flushed one, and hunted with the most invincible re- 
solution. She followed the worm of the fence through thick 
briers, and put up, successively, in each corner, fifteen to 
twenty birds. 1 was next the river; and, although I could 
see her, they flew next the field, except two that I killed* 


She was delighted lo see them fall, and entered into the s 
rit of the sport, fully. She stood at a woodcock, v 
killed, (the same, I believe, that escaped us on Friday or S 
turday,) and stood at it after it was killed, as she does at tin 
dead partridges. I have unbreeched my double-barrelled 
gun, and made a discovery. The antechambers contain only 
about half the pipe of the flash belonging to it, when re- 
duced to its smallest size; and with that quantity (little more 
than a priming) she shoots much better at a mark, from thir- 
ty lo forty steps, than with the extended pipe full — about 
three times the quantity — which ! shot when we were toge- 
ther. You know, at Flat Lick, three years ago, Mr. Wood- 
son said that 1 had not powder enough, when, in fact, I had 
twice as much as I ought to have used. Our day's sport con- 
sisted of six brace of partridges, and a woodcock, killed by 
J. R^ and one brace and a hare, by Mr. Bouldin; besides 
two squirrels, shot flying, by J. R. 

On Salurday a heavy horse, newly shod, with Colonel 
Clarke on bis back, set his foot on mine. The three mid- 
dle toes of the right foot, and the penultimate, are crushed 
almost to a jelly. That night, spasm ensued; but, from 
the free use of camphor and opium, I found relief. This 
morning, in hobbling from the bed to the Are, I hurt it again, 
and there was a recurrence of cramp, or spasm. It is now 
easier, and, I hope, will be well by Christmas. I will com- 
pound for that time. 

I heard from Bizarre to-day. All there are well. I shall 
not be disappointed if a lady of our acquaintance should 
give her hand to some Calvinistic parson. 

Beverley and Polly desire their best regards to you: so do 
Carlo, Echo, and Dido; and, also, little Dash, who a 
last night in the wagoo. Adieu! dear Theodore. 
I am, most sincerely and afiectionately , 
[r. Theo. Bland Dudley. 


Can yoa procure me some extra long and fine and thidi 
home-manufactured woollen stockings? They should be, at 
lecuty three inches longer than the ordinary sized nfen's 
stockings, and of the finest wool. The market is a good 
place to buy them, and is a curiosity that you should exa- 
mine. Direct to Charlotte, C. H., << Roanoke, near Char- 
lotte, C. H., Virginia-'' 


Bizarre, Friday, Nw.l^ 18ia 
Dear Theodore, 

I GOT here yesterday morning, haying been compelled 
(not more from fatigue and sickness, than from inclination,) 
to stay the preceding night with Mr. Hoge. St. George and 
Johnny, who took the other road, came on that night. We 
found your sister and cousin in good health. 

I am in no situation to write, but I cannot resist the incli- 
nation I feel to say something to you, as well as to set you a 
good example; and yet, what have I to say, that has not been 
repeated in every possible form, until, at last, it has, perhaps, 
become stale and nauseous to you. 

Shall I tell you of my " Miseries of Human Life ?^^ Last 
night I awaked shrieking with pain. It was spasm, occasioned 
by my wounded foot The bones of the middle toe are 
crushed, and the whole member a mass of contusiotv. I fear 
I shall have to amputate it at last; (I mean the toe. ) A large 
dose of opium gave me some unquiet sleep; but, to-day, I am 
greatly disordered. I have a bad cold and sore throat; but 
these I do not so much mind: my hip, and the whole thigh 
and leg are, very painful. I think it must be sciatic. The 
pain extends along, down the inside of the thigh, crosses ob*- 



liquely at the knee, so as to affect rather the outer than in- 
ner side of the knee, and afQicts me beyond expression. I 
have felt nothing tike it since my conQnement at Mr. Key's, 
two winters ago. 

You have not mentioned Messrs. Innskeep & Bradford, 
or another commission which began in Richmond, and ended 
in Georgetown. Did you stay at Crawford's? and whom did 
you see in Richmond. Have you received the second $250, 
and lodged it in the bank? 1 want to know all about you; 
but, from your scanty letters, which look like the forced pro- 
duction of an ungenial climate, 1 suppose I shall have to glean 
my intelligence from others, at second or third hand. I see 
yery plainly the error into which you have fallen, and you 
will see it too, (as I did in my own case,) when too late. 
Hare yoii read " Manceuvring " yet. I tell you, {you may 
believe me or not, just as you please,) you are no match for 
female adroitness and artihce, even if not seconded by wll^ 
some beauty, and long /iructice. The love of power, and of 
admiriktion, (and the last is subordinate and instrumental to 
the first,) is woman's ruling passion. Whatever be the af- 
fectation of the day, it is pushed to the extreme — is it timi- 
dity 7 she shrinks from a mouse; is it fortitude? she braves 
Heaven, itself. Read, if you please, Dr. Young's Universal 
Passion; that, I think, is the title of his satires. Let me 
know how, and where, and with ufAom you are lodged; w]^ 
are your companions, &c. I am in great pain. 
Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

If you make any acquaintances, who know me, tell me 
who they are, and their present situation in the world. 
When you write to your mother, inquire if my letter of last 
winter, enclosing Sally's, reached her. I have a partlcuUr 
retaon for wishing to know. 



Roaiu^e, Nov. 15, 1807. 
My dear Theodorei 

Your letter of the Gth, arrived while I wa3 at BiEanre» 
which place I left yesterday moroiog. Your couaiD, howe- 
ver, received one from you by the same poet, by which I wai 
assured of your being well. I am sorry, my son, that any 
passage, in my letter to you, should have given you uneawnim 
I look not for professions from you. You have never given 
into them, and I have always respected you the more for it 
For, as Sir Peter Teazle says, **damin seniiment.^^ I have 
been made the victim of it But I owe it to you, and to my- 
self, to explain the cause which led to the expression, by which 
you felt yourself hurt, and which, therefore, I regret to have 

My situation has been, for some time past, (as you know,) 
a peculiar one. The persons (yourself excepted) from whom 
1 had deserved most highly ; to whom I had dedicated the 
best years of my life, had withdrawn their confidence from 
me. To one of these I had devoted the prime of my man- 
hood ; another, (I blush to tell it !) I loved better than my own 
soul, or Him who created it i What I merited from the^third, 
I will not say. Two of them had descended to speak injuri- 
ously, and ewen falsely ^ (as it respected one of those two,) con- 
cerning me. My heart was wounded to the very core. 
Those persons have since confessed that they were under the 
influence of paltry irritations, and that, in their dispassionate 
moments, they never felt or expressed a thought that was in- 
jurious to me. An instance, however, of disingenuousness 
and want of confidence, the most inexcusable, had lately oc- 
curred in one of them, or, rather, the knowledge of it oc- 
curred to me, for the matter was of some years' standing. At 
this juncture, I received your scanty and meagre letter from 
Blchmond. I attributed ite form to the pressure of time, un- 


til I learned, the day following, that you had written more 
fully to another. I know that you are under some obligations 
to that person, {not that they are not reciprocal, for you have 
made ample returns,) and I applaud your independence in 
showing it, as wel! as the sentiment which makes you feel it. 
But, nevertheless, I was hurt. I know that the only way to 
deserve the confidence of another, is to give our own ; although 
that does not always obtain it. It was because I had given 
you mine, and upon no other score that I felt I had a right to 
challenge yours. To you I had had no reserve, and I looked 
not merely for the disclosure of any matter of consequence, 
in case you had any such to impart, but for a frank commu- 
nication of your opinions and feelings generally. I knew that 
young persons sometimes distrusted old ones, and I feared It 
might be your case towards me. 1 felt unhappy, and, perhaps, 
was unreasonable. I need say no more on this subject. 

I hope you will make all your notes of lectures, &c., in 
blank books, and keep a separate one for observations, such as 
occur to you. I advise .1 journal. " One word written on 
the spot," (as when you go to see any thing worthy of curiosi- 
ty, or make remarks upon the city) is worth a volume of re- 
coUectioDS." I recommend you to the Genius of Htppocrates, 
(not " Hypecrates,") and earnestly recommend an attention to 
Dr. Physick's course. Do not fail to supply yourself with a 
good collection of medical books. Spare not on account of 
expense : to these, by next winter, you can add surgical in- 
struments, electrical machine, &;c. I should be I'eW if you 
suffered false economy to interfere in a case like this. Let 
your dress, also, without being foolishly expensive, be that of 
B genthman. I need not tell you who lived at Bizarre to be 
neat. If your teeth require it, have them cleaned and 
plugged hy a dentist. It is an operation that, I think, ought 
to he performed (cleaning) once or twice a year. 

I hope you will learn to fence, and to dance, also ; and I am 
very anxious that you should speak French, and read Italian, 
Spanish, and German : " As many languages as a man knowi, 


to many fiinet k he a man." If you wiah it, 1 will send you 

Where do yoa l6dge ? Have you made any acquaintances 
yet? It may be worth while to attend to the police of the 
city, the watch, jail, water-works, market, scavengert, &jc. 
I would see a ship launch when practicable. The hospit&H 
of course, you will be acquainted with : that of Pennsylvania 
is an honour to the state. 

I am obliged to conclude. 

Yours, in haste, 


Tudor desires to be remembered to you. Your sister was 
well yesterday ; so were your cousin and St 6e(H^e. 


Roanoke, Nov. 20, 18ia 
My dear Theodore^ 

I WAS obliged to conclude my last letter very abrupt- 
ly, as there was a pressing necessity for Johnny's setting (^ 
to Richmond the instant he could get ready; bitter aa the 
weatfier was; and such I never knew at the same season. It 
has proved very hard upon me, hand and foot; the rheuma- 
tism having settled in the first wounded limb, and the nail 
of the other being in the act of shedding: but, Chacea d 
DieUy I make a shift to get along without quite as many 
heart-aches as I have been made to feel by female caprice 
and affectation. 

You say nothing in your letters of the places you passed 
through. Pid you go through Georgetown? How did you 



s City, and Baltimore? The sight of the Chesapeake 
must have been a great treat to you. It is a magnificent bodj 
of water, and the passage from Newcastle lo Pliiladelphii 
most pleasing novelty. I do not like your indifference 
the scenes around you: at your age, it is not natural, i 
less the heart be sad, or melancholy: for which you havOj 
I trust, no cause ss yet. What acquaintances have yoif 
made, and how do you pass your evenings? Do you go to 
the theatre, and what is the style of performance? Have 
you secured your money, and in what bank? and how much 
more will you want? I should have given you a letter to- 
Mr. Clay, but, he is three in my debt: although the first 
of them demanded an immediate answer, and the other tw» 
eotreated him to furnish it. Under such circumstances, I 
would not write even to him. 

What say Bradford & Innskeep about the review. Let 
me advise you, now and then, on a leisure daj-, to lake a 
saddle-horse from one of the livery-stables, and explore the 
surrounding country. Lansdowne is well worth seeing — so- 
is Tkc fVoodlands, Mr, Hamilton's place; if you can obtain 
an introduction, which I hope you will do through my friend. 
Doctor Logan, who, I see, has returned from Europe. He 
resides at Slaunloo, near Germantown, and is, unquestionably, 
a true patriot. His family is ancient and respectable, and 
his own private character, highly so. Between the upper 
ferry, and ihe falls of Schuylkill, was my most usual shooting 
ground; but both banks, as low as Hamburg House, are quite 
familiar to me. 1 had like to have forgotten to tell you, that,, 
at a Mr. Bartram's, not far below Gray's ferry, on the left 
Gf the road-side, you will find many rare and beautiful tree^ 
and shrubs, particularly some scarce Tarietiea of the pim 

Yesterday, just at the south-east corner of my pasture^ 
fence, I came upon a fine flock of turkeys. They were 
going from the ditch, towards the river. I fired, and 
Tudor, but our shot (No. 9,) were too small, and the n 
keys flew over the river. Woodcocks are now pretty plai 


iturer ^^ 
J did 


faet iiy that Btrton's (on Materia Mediea) is one of the 
most useful and instructive courses; Wistar's is indispensa- 
ble — so is Coxe's (if he be a chemist) and Physick's. The 
rest are catch-pennies, and teach nothing that cannot be bet- 
ter learned without lecturing. He who has access to the 
best authors, and, particularly, to the latest periodical publi- 
cations on medicine, knows all that Rush, &c., can teach, 
without being frozen to death, or stifled in a human bath, 
in a lecture room: but then there would be no jobs for pro- 
fessors. The *^ graduation " is of the same stamp. 

I thank you, my dear Theodore, for your kind wishes 
about my health. My hand is nearly well — to appearance; 
but subject to severe rheumatic affection, particularly on ex- 
posure to cold: neither have I any strength in it Its pow- 
ers cease on a sudden, and things, which from habit I take 
in my right hand, involuntarily drop from it 

This is probably the last letter you will receive from me 
until I reach Washington. Tudor and Carter Coupland are 
here-»both well; and desire to be remembered to you. Car- 
ter sends his love to his brother. Remember me to Tom. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Mr. T. B. Dudley. 

Your sister was well on Saturday, the 15th. Have you 
read ^^ Manceuvring?^^ Why buy two copies of Mitford ? 
If you buy what you have no use for, you always pay dearly, 
be the price what it may. Do not attend auctions: they are 
bad schools, and worthless commodities are palmed off upon 
the unwary. Go, with Dr. Johnson, to " a stately shop.^^ 
Cannot Innskeep & Bradford furnish me with the remaining 
numbers of the Edinburgh Review, bound. 



Roanoke^ Dec. 24, 18ia 
Beab. Theodosx, 

You receive another letter from Roanoke, which I 
can now confidently say will be the last this winter from the 
same place: not that I have any thing to say, except to ex- 
press my anxiety to have you again with me. You know 
not, my son, how dear you are, and how justly dear, to me. 
The only instances (and they are but two) in which I have 
thought of you with disapprobation, have been produced by 
persons far deeper than either of us in the art of stage ef- 

Put me in mind, and I will explain this allusion to you 
when we meet: mean while, may God bless you. 

Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Your sister was well on Friday, the 21st 


OeorgeUnon, JPVft. 4, 1611. 
Dear Theodore, 

lie consequence of what Lord Chatham would style 
a '* parliamentary debauch,'^ I am laid up with sciatic, lum- 
bago, and a defluxion on my head, that hardly permit me to 
write. I have received from your good sister Fanny, a let- 
ter of the most grateful kind to my feelings. When you 
write to her, assure her that I put a proper value upon the 


§4 usmlw OF 

apprdbation of so good a heart as I have efoy raaaon to be- 
lieve hers to be. I shall write to her myself, as soon as I 
am able. Pray let me know how your finances stand affect- 
ed, as I wish to transmit you a draft on the Bank of the 
United States, when I get abroad again. I write in extreme 
pain: my breast, within the last two minutes, haying been 
greatly affected. 

Your affectionate friend and kinsman, 



Georgetown^ Feb. 28; 16II. 

M7 D£Aa Theodore, 

I AM extremely concerned to learn that you are so se- 
riously unwell. Take care of yourself, I pray. My own 
health is far from being good, and I fear that my spirits are 
yet worse. I enclosed your letter to your sister as soon as 
I received it 

As there is little probability of the navigation being open 
by that time, I would suggest whether, when you leave Phi- 
ladelphia, it would not be more advisable to come by the way 
of Lancaster and York, to Baltimore: the distance is about 
thirty miles farther, but the time nearly the same; and you 
will have the advantage of seeing a new and more interesting 

God bless you, my dear boy. I am, with the sincerest re- 

Your friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Remember me kindly to l^om Murray. 


I have heurd from Dr. L., in answer to my lasty. eneloied 
to you. 


WatkingUm, Wednesday, JFV5. 27, 1811. 

My dear ThjboDoee, 

The house sat last night until a very late hour. Some- 
gentlemen — a party of medical students, I presume— during 
my absence, called at the Union tavern, on their way to Alez- 
andria^ and informed my servant that they had left you very 
in in Philadelphia, on Sunday morning. I hope, my son, that 
it may be an exaggeration of the information contained in 
your last letter. But should this, unhappily* not be the case, I 
beg that you will employ the pen of our friend Thomas Mur< 
ray, to let me know your real situation. 

Your anxious friend, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Mr. Thso. Bland Dudley. 


Dr. Birockenbr<mgh*8f Richmdndf 
March 16, 1811. 

Dear Theodore^ 

I REACHED this place on Thursday evening, (the 14th|) 
after a fatiguing ride, from the unseasonable heat of the 


wwtlier. On the water it must have been deli^^tful, and, 
no doubt, you had a pleasant passage back to Philadelphia; for 
there has been a succession of fine warm days, ever since we 
parted in Baltimore. I write, not so much becaase I haye 
any thing interesting to communicate, as because I flatter my- 
self my movements are not entirely indifferent to you. I 
hope, as soon as you get resettled, you will give me a fall 
account of your situation; not forgetting your number, as weB 
as street J and the manner in which you pass your time. I 
was overtaken, at the White Chimnies, by Mr. Morton and 
Mr. Allen of Prince Edward; who, I presume, have gone on. 
Fray call on Mr! Clay, and present him my cordial respects. 
Your friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Remember me kindly to Tom Murray. 


Blake W<H>dson% AprU 11, 1811. 
Dear Theodore, 

By mere accident, I obtained your letter of the 29th 
of March, from the Farmville post-office, on Sunday last, (the 
7th.) I arrived at Mr. Dillon's the day before, on my way 
to Buckingham court — Mrs. Randolph being gone to Clifton, 
and St George, unknown to me, to Roanoke. He accom- 
panied his mother to Mr. Harrison's; returned, and went up, 
on Sunday morning. Sally divides her time between Mn 
Dillon's and Major Morton's families. I called yesterday, at 
the latter place, on my way from Buckingham court, to see 
her, and am sorry to tell you that I found her very unwell, 
having been seised with a sick stomach and fever the day be^ 



It appears to me to be a slight case of bilious affection, 
sod you may rest assured that every thing that kindness and 
good nursing can effect for her, is, and will be done. My 
engagement here obliged me to leave her, but I am just going 
to see her this morning. 

Mr, Eppes obtained a majority of one vole over me at 
Buckingham. This was owing to my visit to Baltimore, in 
the first inslance; but, principally, to the activity of the three 
candidates, who were all opposed lo me, as well as the return- 
ing oflBcer. There were also a great many bad votes, and a 
very thin election: the votes being,for E. 199, R. 19S. The 
polls were closed by half past three, at the very nick of lime for 
my adversaries, the volesof the candidates and clerks putting 
him, for tlie first time, a-head. The mail, on Saturday night, 
was loaded with hand-bills, containing the most infamous li- 
bels against me. 

Present me, very respectfully, to Capt. Murray and Mrs. 

Rush. She is a fine woman, whom I very much admired 

when she was Miss Murray. My best regards lo Mr, Clay, 

and give him all the intelligence respecting the election that 

Ibis letter contains. I will write again soon, when I have 

^TjMre leisure, and better implements. « 

^^■^ Your affectionate friend and kinsman, ' ^M 


fcr. S.— In 
r, 197. 

)9, the vote of Buckingham was for R. 371*; 




Roanoke, July 7, IBH 

Ur Mil TaioDORB, 

YouK truly welcome letter arrived Just as 1 was til- 
ting down to dinner. I know not when I have experienced 
more heartfelt pleasure than the perusal of it aSbrdetl 
me. The expression of your gratedil afiection is the most 
tcceptable offering that could have been presented to mj 
heart; nor would I exchange it, my son, for the applause of 
the million. Be assured, my dear boy, that I find in your 
friendship, and in your wortli, ample compensatloa for the 
•ervieei that I may have had it in my power to render yoa. 
Like yourself, " I have always considered them as a matter 
of course, because 1 have thought ofyou as of a" son. Let 
mt entreat you, therefore, not to purchase at too dear a 
price, to us both, the acquisition of professional knowledge. 
How I wish you were with me; or that you had one of my 
numerous idle horses to exercise upon. This spot is, I be* 
lieve,very healthy, and the water remarkably fine and plen- 
liful: our well having returned to its allegiance. I find my- 
■elf better here than any where else. I returned yesterday 
from an excursion to Halifax, where the 4th of July was 
celebrated without toasts, and no man got " patriotically 
drunk," like the upholsterer in the play, '^for the good of 
hia country." 

I am very much disappointed that you have not received 
the remittance I spoke of through Mr. R. I will ride out 
lo-morrow, and try and procure you some money, noting 
the amount at the foot of this letter. Should I fail, which 
I think very improbable, show this letter to Mr. Clay, who 
will advance you one hundred and fifty dollars for me for 
ten days. Pray ask him to wrtle to me immediately, and 
let me know his opinion of the late disclosure of the t 



secretary of state. Like yourself, I fancy many others be- 
gin to apply the proverb. 

Enclosed is a letter which I must beg you to present, in 
person, if Mr. W. be in Philadelphia. I hope you will not 
give up your jaunt into the country. Take care of your 
health, I beseech you, and be particular in every letter in 
your account of it 

Have you seen my picture of Mr. Clay? Is it a good 
likeness? I found St George and Tudor both here on my 
return from Halifax. They are a great solace to me in my 
solitary condition, and both desire their best love to you. 
Their inquiries after your health were anxious and pressing. 
St Greorge left your sister and cousin well on Thursday, the 
4th. Mrs. Hackley was at Bizarre. Poor Mr. Dillon ha» 
been very ill. Farewell, until to-morrow. 
I am, dearest Theocfbre, 

Your truly affectionate friend and uncle, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. T. Bland Dudlbt. 

I am much better to-night Yesterday was seriously ill; 
hardly able to sit on my horse as I came hon». 

Bank of Virginia, HIOO; No. 6. B. to Robert Bachef 
2d Jan. 1810.— Same Bank, $50; D. No. 1309. to Roger 
Nelson; 13th Dec. 1809. 

Notes of the above description are enclosed within. 

Yours, truly, 

Monday Morning. 





Monday, Rommoke^ Jufy 15^ 181L 
Mr DKAR Theodore, 

On my return from Halifax last night, on a visit with 
Mr. Watkins Leigh to his brother William, I found your 
letter of the 7th. By this time, I trust, yoa are released 
from the heat, and dust, and filth of Philadeljihia, and are 
enjoying in one of the Tillages of New Jersey, the last fr 
▼ourable change in the weather. By the last post, I enclosed 
you 9150, in two Virginia Bank notes: (namely, $100, No. 6; 
R, payable to Robert Bache, 2d January, 1810. $50, D. 
No. 1309, Roger Nelson, 13th December, 1809;) which, I 
hope, came safely to hand. I enclosed, also, to your care, 
a letter to Mr. Robert Walsh, which, I hope, you will de- 
liver by your own hand. 

The weather here has been oppressively hot, until Wednes- 
day last — much less so, however, than with you. I have 
not noticed the thermometer higher than eighty-seven and a 
half degrees, although I am persuaded it has been above that 
point I went from home, sick, and I have returned worse. 
Last night I ventured on twelve grains of calomel, per se, 
and a miserable night I have had of it. I have got rid, how- 
ever, of much bile; and, probably, escaped cholera, or jaun- 
dice. I had symptoms of both: great nausea, and yellow 
tinge of the eye and skin. I have exposed myself, without 
reserve to the sun and dews in the low grounds, since the 
beginning of summer. St. George returned to Bizarre, on 
Wednesday. Tudor went down, also, a day or two aft^- 
wards. Mr. li. has gone to Lexington^ Staunton, &c I am 
quite alone, Beverley not having returned from Staunton. 
Indeed, when he is here, I have nothing of his company, 
unless at meals, and not always then; so that I am less sensL- 
hie of solitude now, than 1 shall be on his return. 


I shall direct this letter to Mr. Clay, to whom present my 
warmest regards. 

Yours, in sickness and in health, 



I see by the papers, eight deaths in one week from cold 
water, in Philadelphia alone. 

My respectful compliments to Mrs. Rush, Mr. Croskey, 
and Mr. Clay. Shake Randolph by the hand for me. Put 
Mr. Clay in mind of his intention to write to me. I wish 
you had called on Mr. Cooper. 


Roanoke, July 18, 1811. 

My dear Theodore, 

I wrote you a few lines on Monday, when I was 
greatly disordered. Thank Heaven, I am now somewhat 
better, although still discomposed. Tudor came up, last night, 
from Bizarre; he left your sister very well, but he says his 
mother is complaining. He will go to school to-day, and I 
shall revert back to my solitary state. You sometimes com- 
plain of want of matter for a letter, and yet you mentioned 
but a word of Cooke and Cooper; and that not until I had 
questioned you about them: this is almost vexatious; espe- 
cially to me, who consider it as one of the great privations of 
my life, the not having seen Cooke. With such various no- 
velties around jouy I cannot see how you find any difficulty 
in filling a sheet 

I cannot suflBiciently thank my good friend Clay for \^ 


kind titantioiii to you. You, howevtr, will not fidl to 4e- 
moDBtrato to him and his whole family, your aense of their 
kindness towards you; for, I am sure, you are the last persoa 
in the world, who would prove insensible to such good 
offices. Commend me, heartily, to Mrs. Clay, Mr. Croskeyi 
my name-sake, and Mrs. Rush; and, I pray you, be less caiu- 
tic in your future eommunications. 

Entirely yours, 


Query — ^What is a ^^/ull neuhtnoon?^^ 

^'Torpotir." This word has not, like honour, Slc^ been 
derived to us through the French. Indeed, it is yet Latin. 
'* From there '* — ^from thence. 


Roanoke, Sunday Afternoon^ July 21, 1811. 
My dear Theodore, 

I SCRIBBLED a fcw lines on Thursday last. To-day, 
I am greeted by your welcome letter of the 14th, (this day 
week,) informing me of the safe receipt of my last remittance; 
but I have no letter from Mr. Clay. I am, however, well 
pleased that he amply overpays me, in his attentions to you, 
for his neglect of myself. I need not enjoin upon you to cul« 
tivate his valuable friendship. It is a source of the truest en- 
joyment to me, that you find in him all that I had flattered 
myself he would prove to you ; more he could not be. Why, 
my dear son, did you suffer Dr. B. to pass you? You ought 
to have made up to him and Mrs. B., who could not have ex- 
pected to meet with you, and, therefore, did not observe you. 



Do you not know that they are two of the beat friends that I 
have in the world, and, therefore, friends of yours ? They 
will he mortified when they learn how they missed of yt 
I am rejoiced to perceive that, although still languid, 
ire visibly better than when your penultimate letter wi 
Bpatched: go on, and improve in health; in every thing else 
you are what I wish you to be — except a little defect, of ab- 
sence, or inattention. When you write, look over my let- 
ters and answer them, instead of omitting, sometimes, topics 
that are interesting to me. 1 am glad to tell you that (two 
sleepless nights, notwithstanding,) I am generally amended in 
health since this day week. I shall begin with Dr. Rush 
to extol calomel as the "Samson of Medicine!" I was 
obliged, however, to resume my flannels. 

The four last days have been very sultry, and attended 
with heavy rains, to the very material injury of my crop of 
tobacco. I shall lose one-half of it, and the remainder great- 
ly damaged. I hope you will not be in fault if you are not 
well acquainted with Mr- W-» — . He is a literary charac- 
ter — rare, even in your quarter of the United States. I have 
a letter from Mr. Dillon. He has been very ill; taken in 
tersburg, where Dr. R., probably, saved his life. 

I expect Mr. Macon and Mr. R. Jones here in the coi 
of this week. 

Yours, entirely, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



The wet weather has destroyed many broods of young par- 
tridges. Can you get any of Pigon & Andrews, in Philadd 

Thermometer at 84% 3 o'clock, P. M. 

Messrs. Wra, Watkina, Bouldin, and Beverley, (whore- 
turned on Friday evening,) have just set out for Halifax 
Court. Tom Murray (I hear) isabout to settle in Campbell. 

My best regards to Mr. and Mrs. Clay, and Mr. Croskey. 
Love to godson Randolph, and respectful compliments to 
Mn. Rush. She is, indeed^ a fine woman; one for whom I 


have felt a true regard^ unmixed with the foible of anofher 
passion. Fortunately, or unfortunately for me, when I knew 
her, ^* I bore a charmed heart'' Nothing else could haye 
preserved me from ihzjull force of her attraction^ I want 
to hear more of the picture, (Mr. Clay's,) and I want to 
see it 

No prospect of fair weather. Where are the Yellow 
Springs? Are they those mentioned in the port-folio? 

Monday Mornings 22iL 

Since I wrote yesterday evening, we have had a great M 
of rain. The weather continues cloudy, and the atmospben 
we breathe seems to be water itself — at least, vapour. I most 
ascribe much of my relief to the resumption of flannels, whieh 
I put on in the night of the 14th, (Sunday,) just as the calo- 
mel was beginning to operate. I had lain them aside on the 
4th, and my health, then bad, grew rapidly worse, until the 
22d, when my complaint seemed to take a turn. Be parti- 
cular respecting your health. • 


Roanoke, Aug. 11, 1811. 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

The last mail brought me no letter from you, from 
which I infer you have left the city, and I sincerely hope you 
will not return to it until there is a frost The post neglected 
to call for my letters, by which means I shall be a week in 
arrear. Why, my dear boy, do you omit all mention of your 
health, strength, and feelings. Remember, I beseech you, 
hovyr.tfKi i»,4iew subjects, and all others which 


. ■eoscerii you, personally. Do not forget to jog the memorjr 
of my friend Clay, about writing to me. ^m 

Mr. Brown, of Halifax, N. C, and Mr. R. H. Jonev^| 
Warrentown, left me yesterday morning. They had been' 
here atnce this day week, and confidently expected to see Mr. 
Macon, who had appointed to meet them here on the 35th of 
July; but he did not come, to our great disappointment. It is 
greatly to be feared that he is sick. Tudor just now came 
over from Mr. Rice's. He is well, and requests to be remem- 
bered kindly to you. My health is so bad that I despair of 
making you understand the state of It. The digestive facul- 
ty is gone, and the whole nervous system shattered. Life is, 
indeed, for the most part, to mc, a burden. We have had 
many yery heavy rains within the last ten days. The crops 
on the small streams are destroyed; and, indeed, the tobacco 
is every where firing. 
Adieu! my son. 


jl kilted a woodcock on the 24th of July. 


f Roanoke. ^^^H 
Aug. 4, leiL ^^H 

Roanoke, Sunday Evening, 
Taia day's post has brought me your welcome letter of the 
S-4th of July. That which you wrote from Bowen's tavern, not yet come to hand, I am pleased to see that you are 
fc»'*'*^'ng an acquaintance with so respectable a family as that 
'" -'^^r. Walsh. Make my respects to him, and assure hi 
lat 1 sjfmpathize inmind, as wellasin body, with his 
se-ase. I (rust that he will not fail to profit of the judif 

: him 

00 LETTEB8 0F 

wiriebf for which I am greatly obliged to him. It would giw 
me great pleasure to renew my old acquaintance in Philadd- 
jhity and form a new one with a few of its worthy inhibi- 
tants. I hare, however^ but three months to stay at hooM^ 
and many embarrassing aflairs to attend to. Among tbso, 
the suit of that superlative villaini Hall^ who has treated Ifr. 
Coles, if possible, worse than he behaved to me. 

1 wish you good sport with Mr. Ashmead's gun. I siir i 
woodcock yesterday, and sent Tudor to the house for the 
gun; but we could not spring it a second time. He left ne^ 
since dinner, for school. My health is worse than ei?er. 

My best regards to Mr. Clay and family. 

Truly, yours, 


It still rains. My com crop, alone, is good;— tobaecaila- 

It delights me to see upon what terms you are with Mr. 
Clay's fieunily. Why does he not write to me? Do you hear 
any thing of Dr. Gibson? or Mr. Sterrett Ridgely? or Mr. 
Nicholson? Have you seen Mr. Cooper? Reply to these 
inquiries. Are the Yellow Springs in Bucks county, and 
how far from Philadelphia? 

Simon has just come to tell me that Euston has broken hi» 
fore leg! 


Monday, Roanske, Aug, 1% ISll, 

My bear Theodore, 

Your letter from " the Ship " did not arrive until 
yesterday, having been sent by mistake to Clarksbury, in 
Kaniioii Coattty, inateed 9t Charlotte, C. H. I am disap- 


.pointed «t not receiving one of a laler dale, and I waa not 
without a hope of hearing from Mr. Clay. I am much 
obliged to you for your description of the country around, 
(or, rather, on Ihis side of,) Downitigtown; such accounts of 
the places, persons, &c., you may see, are very acceptable, 
because they indicate a spirit of observation. There are 
many who look and do not see, while aome see without look- 
ing. Indolence and indifference, the Tttaladie dupays (of 
Virginia,) are more injurious to the eye-sight than candle- 
light, and the smallest print. By the way, you have never 
mentioned any preacher, or other public speaker, whom you 
have heard in Philadelphia. Mr. Hoge forms a standard of 
comparison, by which you might give me your opinion of 
Messrs. Alexander, Green, or Smith. 

1 had thought the Yellow Springs had been a newly dis- 
covered watering-place; but, I find them laid down in a map 
published in 1775, in Pikeland Township, on Pickering's 
creek, a water of Schuylkill. They are placed a few miles 
to the north-east of the "Ship tavern," which is also laid 
down; but, I presume, that cannot be the correct course. I 
am greatly pleased to learn that your strength and spirits are 
recruiting, and I highly approve of your pedestrian essays: 
but, choose not firginians for your companions. I have no 
doubt that many of the medical students of the south, leave 
Philadelphia as ignorant of every thing worthy to be known 
in that city, as when they entered it. This arises from a 
clannish spirit, which makes them associate exclusively with 
one another, and foster their ridiculous prejudices against the 
people of the middle and northern states, of whom, in fact, 
they know nothing. 

St. George came up on Saturday. He left your sister in 
good health: she is staying with Mrs. Dillon, (Mr. D. is 
gone to the Warm Springs in Balh County,) during your 
cousin's absence, who is gone to Staunton. Tudor returned 
last evening to school: he came with his mother from Mr. 
Rice's. Carter Coupland became a member of my family 
a few days since. Some society was indispensable to me, 


and be is a well-difpofled boy, who, I tniat, will relieve, in 
iome degree, my uncomfortable situation. Beverley ii M 
Staunton, with hit wife. 

Since my last, it hai rained almost daily. My crop (con 
excepted) is ruined^ and my last year's crop of tobacco, gool 
for nothing. 

Tell Mr. Clay that I have just heard from Mr. and Mia 
Bryan, and that they are very welL I hope yoa will not 
neglect your friend Dr. Logan. Farewell, my dear Theo- 
dore. I long to see you once more. 

Yours, truly, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. T. Bland Dudley. 

St George has turned an ivory chess-man (a castle,) supe- 
rior to the European model. He shakes you by the hand. 


Mr, Bruce% Halifax, Aug, 25, 1811. 

Dear Theodore, 

My solicitude was such to hear from you, that I sent 
Jupiter down this morning to Roanoke for my letters. He 
returned with the post-boy, and brought your two letters of 
the 16 th and 19th. You may guess what my anxiety is on 
the subject of Mr. Clay. I shall be on thorns until the ar- 
rival of the next mail. The best medical aid is near him. 
Why does he not call in Wistar? Press him to do it, and 
tell him that, indeed, << I cannot afiford to lose any of my 

real friends'* — especially, . I am much concerned, 

loo, my dear son, on your subject I know not how to con- 
vey to your bosom what I feel. I must insist upon your 


abandoning study entirely, for the present Consult Dr. 
Wistar seriously, and take his advice. If it be to come 
home, let nothing but Mr. Clay keep you in Philadelphia. 
There has been a sudden change in the weather since Thurs- 
day, which, I trust, has somewhat relieved you. On the day 
on which you wrote, I heard Dr. Alexander, at Charlotte, 

I thank you for your extracts from your journal, and am 
pleased to see that the ladies come in for a share of your 
time. You had informed me of your having left the picture 
in Baltimore. I have no option but to send this letter or 
none. I shall make you a remittance in a few days. 

Yours, entirely, 


St. Oeorge is with me, and desires his love to you. 
Take care of yourself, I beseech you. Keep your mind 
as undisturbed as possible. 


Charlotte^ C. H,, SepL 2, 1811. 

My dear Thjbosore, 

I LEAVE you to judge of the state of my feelings, 
when I ten 3^00 that I rode thirty miles through the rain 
yesterday, for the sake of hearing of Mr. Clay's situation, 
and find no letter from you. My uneasiness on both your 
accounts was sach^ that I determined to absent myself from 
home until the post-day should come round again. I am 
new to conclude that you are worn down with watching our 
friend, and that both of ybuf, perhaps, are in extwmttr^ 


I beseech you lesve me not in this suspense; snd, 
if unable to writOi get Mr. Croskey to tell me, in three 
words, how you and Mr. Clay are. I intended to hare sot 
off to-day for the Warm Springs; but must defer it, and en* 
counter another week of suspense and wretchedness. Tab 
Wistar's advice for youTBtlf^ and call him in for Mr. Claf* 
If he be convalescent, tell him I take it unkindly that he did 
not cause one line to be transmitted me by the post 

I heard our reverend friend, Dr. Hoge, preach one of hii 
best sermons yesterday, from Luke xxiv. verse 44: he read, 
however, from the 13th to the 47th verse, inclusive. I wtih 
you could have heard his discourse. It was equally argu- 
mentative and pathetic. My best affections to Mr. Clay. 
If the worst should happen, 1 must try and prevail upon hii 
mother to intrust Randolph to me. My last will direet yoa 
how to proceed. 

Yours, affectionately, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

T. B. Dudley. 


Roanoke, Sept 3, 1811. 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

After I had written to you yesterday, your letter 
to St. Greorge, of the 22d of August, was brought (late at 
night) from Mr. Rice's, whither it had been sent with some 
of my own, for what reason I cannot conjecture. I beg of 
you, my son, not to expose me again to similar casualty — ^for 
St Greorge's stay with me is quite uncertain^ being inter- 
rupted every two or three days by his necessary attention 


to his mother's business. She is io Stauntoo. I am relieved 
at finding thai Mr. Clay is not worse, and that you are not 
yet exhausted by nursing. May He who alone has the 
power, watch over and protect you both. At the same time 
that your letter to St. George arrived, I received one from 
Mr. Diiion, and infer from his silence that your sister is well. 
If my accounts by the next post are not more satisfactory, I 
shall, forlhwilh, set out for Philadelphia. I can bear am^ 
thing better than suspense. There is no fauU more coaw 
mon, or more to be avoided, than egotism. But is iCe^' 
tism to tell an anxious friend the state of our health? I am 
glad that my good friend. Dr. Brockenbrough, found you 
out. Cherish the acquaintance of that man. " He 
other men are." 

I perceive some trips in your orthgraphy: for exampi 
" benijicial," which, I own, surprised me; the etymon be? 
iug a safe director: " allways:" "/oose," the adjective, or 
imperative, for lose. 

Mr. Hackley has sent me two Spanish pointers — one dou- 
ble-nosed — the only one, of thai species, to be procured. 
However, I question if they are better than Echo, or Dido, 
whom old Carlo is now guarding with a Spaniard's Jealousy. 

St. George goes down to-morrow, which enables me to 
send this scratch in time for the Genito mail. Tell my 

I etui Clay that my heart is with you both. ^^B 

Bod bless you! my son. ^^H 

[ Vours, most truly, ^^^H 

L JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. ^^H 




Roanoke, Sept. 8, 181L 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

Your letters have just arrived. I opened one from 
Dr. Brockenbrough, in the first instance, and from it recei?ed 
the afflicting intelligence.^ It dropped from my hands as if 
I had touched a living fire-brand. I cannot tell you what I 
feel. I could not, if I knew myself. But I do not I am 
stupefied. I do not know what I am about I will try and 
write again to-morrow. Say to Mrs. Clay, what I could not 
if 1 were with her. I could only wring her hand, and min- 
gle my tears with hers. I feel a sense of suffocation rixNit 
my heart I thank God that you were with him: that you 
could do all that could be done; that I would have tried to 
do if I had been there. My dear son, I can write no more. 
I will endeavour to write again. 

Yours, unalterably, 


I consider Randolph as my son. 

* The death of his friend, Mr. Joseph Clay, of Philadelphia. 



Roanoke, Sept. 15, IBILI 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

The post has arrived, and brought no letter fro 
you. You may judge my anxiety by reversing the cU 
and making it your own. My house is a perfect hos| 
Mr. Curd " lies up stairs, at the point of death, with malig 
fever, I have scarcely any hopes of his recovery. Ju 
has been very ill, and in this harassed situation, Carter C 
land excepted, I have not had the assistance of any peri 
besides my own people. Dr. Werry has, indeed, attend! 
with much solicitude: Curd has now been ill nearly a ft 

The lectures are so near tpnamencing, that I virould not 
have you leave Philadelphia unless your health should re- 
quire the measure; of that Br. Wistar will be the beat judge, 
and to it I would have you sacrifice every other considera- 

I scarcely know what I write. Beverley is in Staunton, 
and has not been here twc days, together, since about the 1st 
of July. Farewell, my son! Say all that is proper for a 
to Mrs. Clay and Mr. Ashmead's family. 
Your affec.'ionate kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOI-PH, of Roanoke.^ 

Your sister was vrell on Tuesday lasL 



Roimoke, SepL 53, 19tL 

Mr tuLAH TiiwwMii:, 

TiiK po»l-boy has just now brought your Itro lellerf 
kthn IO<)i and Hlh of this month. They have relieved 
f mind (tnm the uniaRincss produced by Dot hearing froai 
m4 week. Indeed, my attention had heen, in gouh 
re, distracted hy (he scene of distress which my house 
I Dililbllud lor tomo time past. Mr. Curd breathed his 
t on Thursdny morning, half past three o'clock, after a 
lit Hvom illniisa, whicli lasted sixteen days. I insisted 
I hli cotninn up here, where he had every possible aid 
ibt tho host medical advico and most assiduous nursing could 
wd him. Oui-inR tho Inst veek of his sickness, I was ne- 
I bhicnt from Iho hoiiK bit twice, about an hoar each 
IB, for air and ciercisc: I act up with him, and gave him 
IroiI all his iTifdicincs, with tiy own hand> and saw that 
pussihio niluntion was pnld to him. This is, to me, an 
Ipitakabia comfort; and it pleased God to support me un- 
^thii trying scene, hy granlinj me better health than I 
1 Mpnrionccd for seven years. On Thursday evening 1 
lowed him to the grave; and, som after, the effects of the 
Iguo and distress of mind that I aad suffered, prostrated 
katrenglh ond spirits, ond I became ill. Three successive 
pita of watching were too much for ny system to endure; 
I I am now better, although weak and giddy. I was with 
^when he died, without a groan or cliange of feature, 
fi^aervants, also, have been all sick, extepl Essex, Hetty, 
I Nancy. Carler Coupland, my only companion in this 
scene of trouble, has behaved most nobly. If I had per- 
mitted it, he would have eshauated himself by sitting up. 
He has been of inexpressible assistance and comfort to me. 
On Wednesday morning Beverley, who accompanied your 
^from Staunton, came to breakfast, and went on im- 


mediately to Halifax Court. He is now at Prince Edward 
Superior Court, where Mr, Leigh is to appear for Robert 
GibsoQ on a charge of murdering Samuel Pearce, hia brother 
in law; and Beverley for Caleb Baker, junior, who ja to be 
tried for shooting a negro. 

It is grateful to me to see that Ihe relict of my, let ma 
say our poor friend, and his other connexions, do not under- 
value my regard for the memory of that excellent man. 
Say all that is proper for me to them. I am too unsettled to 
write. I hope Mr. Croskey will send me the picture after 
having such copies taken as Mr. Clay's friends may desire. 
Haa mine ever arrived in Philadelphia? 1 paid Jarvis eighty 
dollars. Do not be uneasy about me; hut write often, 
and fully of yourself, and affairs. 1 know you must be 
getting out of cash. I enclose a small supply of forty dol- 
lars, and will send more when I can get out, and procure it. 

1 am comforted to find that my dear friend's family are 
getting more composed under their calamity. I hope he 
left them in easy circumstances. Say something on this sub- 
ject to me, as well as on that of your own financesj one on 
which you are culpably reserved. 

My other overseer. Palmer, is very sick; an autumnal 
fever, prevalent among the poor slaves. I give Ihem eme- 
tics of ipecacuanha and tartar emetic combined, twelve and 
two grains: one-third taken until it operates, and afterwards 
a mercurial cathartic. This treatment has proved effectual 
ia all the cases except three: in those. Doctor Merry's 
skill has succeeded in giving relief. You may probably 
hear exaggerated reports of my illness. Give no credit to 
them, it has been the eScct of watching, fatigue, and 
anxiety; and rest will soon restore me. Mr, William 
Walkiiis, and Colonel Morton have just called to inquire 
^HK-I do. 

^^b Yours, ever, 


^^m*. Theo. Bland Dcdlev. 

Your sister was well on Monday. Carter sends his lovaj 



Roanoke^ OeL e» 1811 


Your two lettera, of the 23d and 30th of Septembo; 
hare just now reached me. 1 awaited the arrival of tb 
post, in the expectation of hearing from you, with fediDp 
which yoQ will be at no loss to comprehend, because yoi 
have 80 well described them. Let me beg of you, my sas,* 
to dismiss all anxiety on my account. I wish I could as ni* 
dily relieve all your other cares;. but, therein, <<the patient 
must minister to himself." I have been very unwell, but 
am now, thanks be to God! quite restored to my usnl 
health. I have never failed to write to you by every post; 
if my letters have not come to hand, the fault is to be hid 
to the door of the post-office. Take care of yourself, oiy 
dear fellow; if not for your own, at least /or my sakt. 
Struggle against desponding and low spirits, and endeavour 
to cultivate and to cherish a cheerful, or, at least, a serene, 
habit of mind. This is more in our power than we are in 
general aware of: especially in early life. It is only when 
the opposite, or any other ill habit, is formed and fastened 
upon us, by that tyrant custom, that we see and feel, and 
fruitlessly bewail our error. 1 am shocked, and should be 
surprised, if any thing could surprise me that man can do, 
at the gross and cruel injustice done to the memory and fa- 
mily of our excellent friend, by his late employers: but it 
is not among money lenders, and, especially, monied corpo- 
rations, that I should look for delicacy, feeling, or liberali^; 
much less for justice. There is in all the combinations of 
nature and art, nothing so hard and callous as a trading com- 
(MMiyi of whatever description. They look to the dividend; 
V^ Ihe profit and loss account of the leger; and, whether 
<i{Mf Ipin flow from the blood of a Hindoo, or African; 


rom the ruined reputation of an honest and amiable man, or 

9 teara of his widowed companion and orphan ofiTapring, 

is all one to these worthy personages. I had feared that 

the generous temper of our friend had disabled him from. 

making a secure and permanent provision for his family. It 

was therefore, that I directed my inquiries to that point 

Mrs. Clay (to whom I have not yet the heart to ivi'ite) will 

not, I hope, deny me the melancholy privilege of consider- 

[ ing Randolph as my own son. I intend, wiih her permis- 

I sion, to take upon myself the charge of his education and 

, advancement in life. Could I do a thousand times more, his 

father had deserved it all richly at my hands. Do let her 

know this through Mr. Croskey, or in any other way which 

your own delicate and manly spirit may suggesl. 

1 was aware that your finances must have been straitened] 
and, therefore, I wished to know how they stood, that I 
might make the speediest and most efficient provision on 
that head. This, you say, is "a delicate subject:" true, it is 
80, in general, but not between you and myself, my dear son. 
Take care of your heart. Pity is a-kin to Love. Grief pre- 
pares the affections for the sway of that seducing tyrant. 
The ladies of Philadelphia are fair and alluring, and your 
time of life is most propitious to their power over your heart. 
In the language of your profession, there is in every young 
man of a just and honourable way of ihinking, of refined 
and elevated notions, a strong predisposition to this univer- 
sal disease, which, like some others, all of us must have once 
in our lives. If the case be desperate, make me your con- 
fidant, if you can: I will endeavour to prove myself not 
unworthy of the trust. But I protest against extorted con- 
fidence and forced prayers, I, too, have been young, and 
know how to make allowance, I trust, for the noblest infir- 
mity of our nature; which none but the young, or those who 
have not forgotten the feelings of their youth, can duly esti- 

I shall go on early to Washington, and d* 
to come on there until you hear of me froi 


take care of yourself. As soon as I get to Richmond (if not 
sooner) I shall make you a remittance. I would not have 
had you put even the semblance of slight upon the memory 
of our dear friend, for the wealth of Croesus. 

Fare welly my dear Theodore: for such you are^ and e?ar 
will be, to 

Your friend, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Bfa. Theodorick Blaitd Dudley. 

Carter greets you cordially: so does Beverley. Heniy 
Tucker has lost his youngest child: so has Mr. William Wat- 
kins. All well at Bizarre, yesterday. 

I sent you $A0 by the last post; or, rather, the penulti- 
mate, which, I presume, you have received: $20 and 0150 
before; that is, since we parted in Baltimore. I state this, 
to avoid mistake. Mr. Garnett, speaking of Mr. Clay's 
death, says — <^ I feared until I heard from you,'' (a misap- 
prehension of a passage of my letter,) <^of Dr. Brocken- 
brough's being with him, that those Philadelphia Sangrados 
had killed him. Poor fellow, he always appeared to me too 
fond of their most absurd and most fatal system, of taking 
all the blood out of a man's body by way of prolonging his 
life.* He lived long enough for his own fame, but the loss 
of such a man, at any period, must be considered both as a 
public and a private calamity." 

* Do you take warning', and consult WutoTi Phyncky and the fiithen of 



Roanoke. Oct. 13, 1811. g 
Sunday Night. 
Mv DEAR Theodore, 

YoiTR welcome letter of the 6th arrived to-day, most 
opportunely, to withdraw my mind from those vexatious and 
vulgar detaila to which a Southern planter must, in some de- 
gree, attend, or encounter certain ruin. You may well sup- 
pose how much my time la taken up with these heartless, 
or, rather, disheartening cases, when I tell you that I have 
not yet found any one to supply the place of poor Curd — I 
mean inform: for I " shall never look upon his like again." 

I am glad to find that you can and do amuse yourself with 
field-sports: but I hope you will take care how you exchange 
shots with any but gentlemen; and even with them, ihat 
you will have your quarrel just. A man would cut a piti- 
ful figure who should lose his life in a brawl with such fel- 
lows as you describe yo«r unknown adversary to be. We 
should study that our deaths, as well as our lives, should be 
innocent, if not honourable and glorious; so that our friends 
should have no cause to blush for the folly, or rashness, of 
either. At the same time, be assured, my dear Theodore, 
that, of all the defects in the human character, there is none 
that I should so much deprecate for my friend, or myself, as 
want of spirit and firmness. 

You say that " Mrs, Clay is anxious to get my picture." 
Do you mean my picture of Mr. Clay, or the picture of my- 
self which I had taken for him? The last, Mr. Nicholson, 
jr., promised to transmit to Philadelphia last spring. I am 
very anxious to get my picture of Mr. Clay as soon as it 
shall have been copied for his friends. I cannot part with 
the original, unless Mrs. Clay desires it. Present me, af- 
fectionately, to her and Randolph. I hope to see thi 



gome time this winter. Can she be prenikd opoo, do jti 
think, to intrust him to my care? 

I am glad you hare become acquainted with Mr. Ma 
Morton, of Bordeaux. He is a most valuable mui; an ha. 
nour to Virginia. His worthy connexions will be jmHf 
proud to see him. 

To whom is my friend Roscius about to be married? I 
hope some good party: although I fear matrimooj will not 
suit his habits. He has been too long a «< chartered libo^ 
tine/' to bear the matrimonial chains: they will not dank 
so gracefully as the fetters of Pierre. 

Mr. Fatten, of Alexandria, writes to me that he has n- 
ceiTed from Mr. Hackley a fine pointer for me, which he 
keeps subject to my order. Mr. Hackley's last letter mea- 
tions the dog as a very fine one. He sent three others for 
Mr. W. R. and myself; one of which is a double^osed slat 
It was the only one, of that ractj that Mr. H. had been 
able to procure since the loss of the tw(^t>y storm) that he 
had shipped for us. The French, around the Bay of Cadi^ 
got possession of them. 

I have killed one soree, or ra/, (I believe the word is so 
spelled, without the i,) about a dozen ortolans, and, this 
morning, a very fine whistling plover; the heaviest biid I 
ever felt of his size. I shot him at the cow-pen, in compa- 
ny with some kildees; and, after I had shot, a very large 
flock rose, a few paces ofi*— but I got no second opportunity. 
We have, apparently, no woodcocks. 

Adieu, dear Theodore! 
I am, most truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoka 

I receive your letters—but irregularly; two at a lime. I 
hope you have visited Mr. Cooper, and that he has seen Mr. 
Crawford's letter on the subject of a certain afifair that took 
place at the close of the last session of congress. I sent a 



copy of it lo Mr. Clay, and requested thai it might be shown 
to Mr. Cooper. This is, probably, the last letter I shall 
write from this place, until we meet again. I long to see 
you once more. Carter desires his love. Beverley went to 
Staunton on Wednesday. He has not been here two dn 
since June, all taken together — never two in succession. 



Roanoke, Oct. 20, IB] 

My deas Theodore, 

CoNTBAsr to my expectation, I address another let- 
ter to you from this place, {written, for want of paper, on 
the cover of your own of the 12th, which the post-boy has 
jost handed to me.) Just as I was preparing to set oul, poor 
Carter was taken sick, and I am too strongly bound to him, 
by his kind attentions to myself and family, to think of 
leaving him, under such circumstances. His disease {a mild 
form of autumnal fever) has yielded to a single dose of ca- 
lomel. The night before last, just as he had fallen asleep, 
and I was ^vatching by his bed-side, Tudor arrived, to my 
great comfort and relief. Beverley, who went lo Staunton 
a fortnight ago, has not yet relumed. Tudor left your sis- 
ter, his mother, and brother, in good health. Yesterday 
John Morton and Mr. Tucker (Henry, brother of George,) 
arrived; and to-day we broke the Sabbath, according to the 
estimation of puritans. When 1 had killed one orlolan and 
three partridges, the rain drove us in, about ten o'clock. 

Be assured, my dear Theodore, that your letter, which 
now lies before me, verifies, moat Btiils-m^-Siftva^^Stv^R.^* 


ftbler'a remark. Our pleasure, llien, is muLual: may it 

|ver thus between us, my son! May our coDDex'too be 

i it has been to me, productive only of salisraclioD, 

lltle alloyed as any human enjoyment can be. Il hai 

o me B source of comfort and consolation that I would 

tchange for all the dignities and kingdonis of ihil 

I gives me great pleasure lo find that your health is bet- 
land thai the tone of your spirits is somewhat restored, 
late severe shock from the loss of our dear 
Id, poor Mr, Clay! Time, I trust, will do tiie rest If 
a younger man, 1 should almost envy you the plet' 
I of seeing my friend, Cooper, on the stage. Aa 
, I rejoice that you have a resource against tedium 
lassitude, at once bo rational and delightful: one which, 
i my powers of perception are, by a long, hack- 
Id journey through life, I could yet relish with no com- 
1 zest. While such recreations are within your reach, 
lay nothing of the ladies,) I have no fear (even were my 
Idence in your taste and principles less than it is) of 

JOHN HAminLPH. 113 

and all her good family. Speak to Mr. CroBkey about the 

Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Mr. Tbeo, Blahd Dudi.ey. 

The boya send tlieir best love to you. The weather 
changed to-day greatly for the better. You are aware of 
the fatal consequences of " « single false step." Present 
my best respects to Mr. Cooper,* and tell him that 1 have re- 
ceived his obliging letter, and that I would answer it, but that 
I am hurried in preparing to leave home. My friend Kid- 
der has sent me " Don Roderick," proximus longo inter~ 
vallo to the "Lady of the Lake;" herself as farremoTi 
from "Marmion" or "The Lay. 


■^ Hanover, C. H., Noo. 1, If^ll. 

^^^ Fridati,hatfpa«tn.P.M. 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I lEPT Roanoke on Thursday, (Oct. 24,) between 12 
and 1, and got to Bizarre that night, just as the family were 
retiring to bed. The effects of the night air (it was very cold) 
were very severe, and 1 have not yet recovered from the ex- 
posure. Yoursister and cousin were well; so was St. George. 
Tudor rode down with me from Roanoke. I heard from him 
again to-day; on Friday, (Oct. 25,) I progressed, in great 
pain, to our friend's, Mr. Thomas Miller, who inqiiir 



fey ^«T roc *(eti te, Scsr^. C^*^} ■ naM 

Me=bnks' BHk af F^^^fen. Xj'iMt 

e wodd fane beea Ib^ kM I hvc art Iw^ieli 
a mle ^ B7 lobne^ •• flay « 
■e tbcKZ 

eootof taws 1 
b and iptrita. 

i! lo give jva Ae earfieal """'|,' iiTr if Ai 
wtihio^ of yoor eKcheqaer. Good Hi^liL I anal hak 
bingtoo the day afticf xo-namtw. 
- JOHN RA>'D02.^ 

I met Beverley, uid tus wile utd child, u BixaiR, oa 
m way borne. 


liad the pleasure to see her, in persoDi ere this. Has Cap- 
tain Ashmead received my letters? 

Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 


Saturday^ Jan. 5, 1812. 

Mv DEAR Theodore, 

I HAVE been much indisposed, but am now better. I 
have neither health, spirits, nor leisure to write. At this mo- 
ment, I have at least fifty unanswered letters; some of them 
on business of consequence. Recollect, my son, that I have 
some twenty or thirty correspondents: you, perhaps, not more 
than three or four. I say nothing of my other avocations. 

My spirits are crushed by the late calamitous event at 
Richmond.* Mrs. Brockenbrough, I fear, will lose her 
senses, irretrievably! Would to God, my son, that circum- 
stances permitted you to be with me, at this moment I 
have need of comfort 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Late—Saturday Night. 

• The burning of the Theatre. 



Oeorgetownt Jon. 0, 1812. 

Mr DSAB Thbodorb, 

I HAYS just received your letter of the 16th. Why 
are you so concise? You surely cannot plead want of time, 
or number of correspondents. Give my best respects to 
Mr. Walsh, and tell him that the least inaccurate sketches 
of my speeches will be found in the << Spirit of '76," but 
they are extremely imperfect, and I have neither health, 
leisure, nor (I might add) power to render them less so. 
Speaking, as I always do, from the impulse of the moment, 
the verba ardentia cannot be recalled. The glowing pic- 
ture fades — the happy epithet, the concise and forcible ex- 
pression is lost, never again to be retrieved. A miserable 
shadow is all that remains-— nor can I look upon it without 
disgust My best regards to Dr. Logan: I shall be rejoiced 
to see him here. Adieu. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
T. B. Dudley. 


Monday, Jan. 12, 1812. 
Dear Theodore, 

I have crawled down to the house, for the purpose of 
giving my vote on a proposition, which, after having been 
debated for nearly a week, is withdrawn. I received Captain 
Ashmead's pi^rs, and they are before the secretary of state, 


with auch observations as I thought proper to make upon ' 
I them, consisting, chiefly, of Captain Aahmead'a statement of 
, facts respecting the charges of interest, &c, 

I saw Mr. Ruah last evening. He spoke of you very 

obligingly. Pray keep up your spjrita: you are too young 

to indulge in this fatal luxury. 
^^H Farewell, my son! ^^^ 


^^Hr. K DUDLET. '^^^H 

My beat regards to Mrs, Clay and family. Aa aoon aa I 
hear from the secretary of state, I ahall tranamit his deci- 
B to Captain Ashmcad. 


Georgetauin, Jan. 16, 
TliuTsday Nigki. 

been confined all day to my apartment by in- 
disposition — not severe, but highly distressing: a general 
prostration of strength and spirits, arising, I believe, from 
erratic gout. In tliis state of body and mind, nothing is so 
grateful to me as the recollection of my friends; but, I hear 
from few of them, and at long intervals, or by scanty let- 
ters. I flee that Mr. Dennie is no more. What character 
did he bear in Philadelplna? Was he an intimate of Mr. 
Walah? Have you seen ihat gentleman lately? When 
do see him, present my sincere respects to him, and to 
Logan, also. Do you visit at Mr. DaUaa's? . You forget 
'» to say any thing of yourself, and your afiairs. 




Good nighty my son! 

Youriy truly, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. T. BLAim Dudlsy. 


Oeorgetcwnj fV&. 3, 1812L 
My dear Thbodore, 

Your scanty letter of one straggling page, serves to con- 
vince me that you have not entirely forgotten me. But why, 
my son, do you say nothing of your pursuits, your companions, 
or of the few persons whom you see, that are known to me, 
by character, at least? Dr. Logan, for instance, or Mr. Walsh. 
I know by fatal experience, my child, the fascinations of a 
town life — how they estrange the mind from its old habits and 
attachments; but I will not permit myself to believe that you 
have yielded to their influence. In reminding me of Blooms- 
bury and Fidget,^ you recall to my recollection some unplea- 
sant, at least mournful recollections. I had intended to ac- 
company Mr. Parish to Baltinoore. But, late on the evenii^ 
previously to his departure, a circumstance occurred that de- 
tained me here one day longer. I meant to have written to 
you by Mr. P. in order to introduce you to his acquaintance. 
He is a gentleman of great worth and intelligence. I hope 
he will use my old servants well. 

My Virginian friends, except Mr. Leigh and Dn Brocken- 
brotigh, have scarcely written me a line this winter. By my 

* Two saddle horses that he had sold to Mr. Parish. 


old neighbours, and my new ones too, I have been entirely ne- 

You say nothing of Mrs. Clay, or her family. I propose 
doing myself the pleasure of seeing them, whenever the state 
of things here will allow me to leave Washington, or, rather, 
Congress. Present me, very respectfully, to her and her fa- 
mily; also, to Captain Ashmead,and tell him that no decision 
has yet been made on the claim which he transmitted me. 

Good night, my son. 1 feel very low this evening. May 
God bless and protect you. 

Your friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

My best respects to Mr. Walsh, and to Dr. Logan, when 
you see him. 


Georgetown, Feb. 5, 1812^ 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I SAW Mr. Dallas to-day, for the first time since his ar- 
rival, and he reproached me for not having made him ac- 
quainted with you. I related to him the fact, just as it had 
occurred, and he bids me tell you that you can only make 
atonement for your transgression by calling on Mrs. Dallaa 
during his absence. On his return, he expects to find you at 
home m his house. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



Georgetown^ Feb. 15, 1812. 

1 THAiTK you, my dear Theodore, for your very a£^ctionate 
letter. My avocations, the state of my health, and* I am fiony 
to add, of my spirits, must plead my excuse, when I do not 
make a prompt and suitable return for such instances of your 
attention. I have seldom experienced a greater depressioD 
than at the present moment You must not account with me 
too seTerely, my son. Could you know what I feel, I should 
want no advocate in your breast 

It would be matter of surprise to me, if you had not been 
touched, as I perceive you have been, with the uncommon 
merits of your friend, the late Mr. Clay. Why do you say so 
little of his widow and orphan family ? Why are you silent 
on the subject of his picture, respecting which I feel, and have 
expressed, so much interest ? 

I am glad to find that you occupy yourself in the study of 
the sacred writings. Go on and prosper, as assuredly he 
must, who is engaged in so ennobling a pursuit But I am 
sorry to find in your diary, so many notices of lectures unat- 
tended.* These instances, I hope, will not hereafter so fre- 
quently occur. 

Farewell, my son ! Remember me to Mr. Walsh and to 
Dr. Logan; and believe me, with the truest regard, your 
friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. Theodorick Bland Dudley. 

* Owing to indispo^tioiir 



Georgetown, March 4, 1B13. 
I HAVE been for some time paat remisa in my corres- 
pondence wilh you, my dear Theodore; and even now, I 
diall hardly make amends for iny deficiency. My health is 
bad, and my perplexilles many. The object of this letler 
is to request you lo transmit to me an account of the state of 
your finances, and to let me know whether any new regula- 
tions have been matle respecting Ihe graduation of the me- 
dical student, in your university. I hope to see you shortly 
Your friend and kinsman, 

Tbeodokick Blard Dodlet. 

rdon the seeming abruptness of this letter. 

our university. 1 hope to see you shortlj^^^ 

Your friend and kinsman, ^^^| 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Soanokok^^l 


ning abruptness of this letter. ^^^H 


Oeorgetoum, MaTch 13, 1812: ^^^H 

r DEAR Theodore, 

I SHODLD have written lo you before this time, by 
vax- friend Dr. Logan, who is here, and who intended to 
i-ve gone to Philadelphia, the day before yesterday; but he 
^ postponed his journey until the day after to-morrow. I 
i-^, and still am anxious to know whether, agreeably to 
- ^regulations of the university, you can hontntrably gra- 
*-*^ this season. 

t obliged to Dr. Chapman for his good intentions; but 
e, eventful as it has been in some points oC ■>(«"«, -w^^N. 



hardly afford materials for biography. I ought to hare ntr 
objection to the engraving in question, except as it will of- 
fer but an uninteresting and insignificant subject to the pub- 
lic attention. 

You will hear farther from me by our friend the Doctor. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH,, of Roanoke. 

Mm. T. B. Dudley. 


Georgetown^ March 14, 1812. 
My dear Theodore, 

Our friend, Dr. Logan, will hand you this. Enclosed 
you have one hundred dollars, which, I trust, will put your 
finances a little above par. Pray, my dear son, write to me 
fiilly on the subject of my last letter — the prospect of gra- 
duation. 1 have the strongest wish to have you with me. 
Dr. Logan, contrary to my expectation, leaves town to-mor- 
row, instead of the day after. I am, therefore, obliged to 
be abrupt, which I hope you will excuse. In haste, but 
with the truest regard, 1 am, my dear Theodore,. 
Your friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. T. B. Dudley. 

I have put my name on the back of the note, (which I re-^ 
ceived of government,) to put an end to any difficulty, in its* 
negotiation. My best respects to Mr. Walsh. 



Georgetown, May 11, 1812. 
Mr BEAR Theodore, 

I HAVE received your two "short and hurried leltera." 
I am much concerned, my son, to hear that you " have been 
very unhappy since you got hack to Virginia." I am afraid 
you will find nothing in our solitary and deserted habitation 
to raise your spirits. I shrink at the idea of retnrniag to 
it. Disappointed of every' rational hope of my life — look- 
ing forward to nothing better in this world — my faculties 
jaded, and daily forsaking me — with recollections of the 
past which I would gladly dismiss for ever from my memo- 
ry — it is for me, and such as me, to talk of being unhappy.j 

I believe I omitted to tell you that I wished you to i 
Everlasting: — pray he merciful to her. 
Yours, sincerely, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. J 


Georgelowji, May, 1912. , 
I THANK you, my dear Theodore, for your letter of 
the 14th: it is all I can do. Tudor, tired of Baltimore and 
its vicinity, has gone on to Philadelphia. I enclosed him 
letters to Mr. Walsh, Mrs. Clay, and Mr. Parish. He will 
there await my coming. I fear you have a sad time of it at 
Roanoke. You said nothing to me of your sister, or cousiqjn 
particularly of your reception by the latter; and a 


■By Ihtni^ of my aiAer, who mentiooa you with much ioU- 
rat. In h45te. 


JOIIN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

tGmrgftoten, Jvnt 5, 
YotJ are not the first of my correspond en (a whom 



inveterate habit of scribbling has induced (o suppose that I 
would continue to write to them whether I received any en- 
couragement lo do 30, or not. At present, however, there 
exist impediments to my accustomed readiness and punctu- 
ality in this respect which I cannot overcome. It gives me 
great pleasure to hear that you have regained your compo- 
sure of mind. Into the causes which disturbed it I never 
ventured to inquire, content lo receive such portion of your 
confidence as you chose voluntarily lo bestow upon me. 

The death of poor Echo is a severe blow upon me. " 1 
ne'er shall look upon her like again." And, among the in- 
ducements which I felt lo revisit my own comfortless home, 
it was not the least that I should again see her, and witness 
the sagacity and attachment of this humble yet faithful four- 
footed friend. 

My best love to Carter. 

Yours, afieclionately, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Ifias Echo any ofispring at Roanoke? 



Oeorgetowrt, June 29, 1812. 
Mr DBAR Tbbodohe, 

YouE letter from Charlotte, C. H., has just reached 
me. I regret very much that I have had it so little in my 
power to write to you since your return home; but my hands 
are full, and my vigour wasted. It is with extreme difficulty 
that I can summon resolution aod find time to do the drud- 
gery to which I am tied down. 

I shall address this to Bizarre, and I beg of you to excuse 
me to your cousin and St. George for not writing. Tudor 
is now in Philadelphia. He is highly delighted with your 
friend Mr. Walsh; who speaks of you as you could wish. 
I don't know whether I told you that Dr. Sim called to pay 
his respects to you the day after you left us. I went to the 
island, and found that our invitation had been given for the 
preceding Sunday. We shall adjourn on Monday next, so 
say our masters. 

bYour friend and kinsman, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke.] 

Friday Night. Nov. 19. 1911 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I RECEIVED your short letter this evening, and an im- 
pertinent one from Palmer, by the same post 1 fear I 
shall have to go home, for he threatens to leave my planta- 
lion, because "I am too light wift\Vim-" ft\'».\."\%,\ ''*^ ^^^ 

196 LETTens OP 

permit him to encroach beyond the terms of my contract witli 

You have, perhaps, done right In taking the tickets of all 
the professors. It is, no doubt, a propitiatory step towards 
them; but, I do hope, that you will not run the risk of ia- 
juring'your health in attending them. You say nothing upon 
that topic. What is Dr. Physick's, or Wistar's opinion of 
your case? You are silent, also, respecting Mrs. Clay, Mr. 
Walsh, Dr. Chapman, &c.? How is Randolph ? I wrote to 
you last evening. The night was a night of horrors io me. 
I had a severe sore throat, fever and pains in every limb and 
joint Half an hour's disturbed sleep was my portion. To-day 
I am better, far better; but clearly discern gout in xnj feel. 
They are painful, tumid, and red, especially the great toes, 

I am glad to tell you that Tudor has done himself credit 
at Cambridge. He stands high In the opinion of *tfae pro- 
fessors, as well for his deportment, as his literary acquire- 
ments, and love of study. 

It has blown a gale from every point of the compass, (ex- 
cept south,) since you left us. Hard clouds — spitting snow 
and sleet — weather that one would expect in Spitzbergen; 
not in latitude 39°» I have not been to the house, and scarce- 
ly out of the house since you left us. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

My compliments to Dr. Chapman. Tell him that I would 
give him some memoirespour servir, &c., if I had an ama- 

Do not forget that the perfection of the epistolary art 
consists in omitting all mention of incidents in one's letters. 

Present me, respectfully, to Mr. Walsh, Mr. Hare, Mr. 
Meredith, Mr, Binney, and Mr. Dallas, if he be of your ac- 

Good night! good night 

Beverley R. has distinguished himself at Queenstown. 




^^P Tkursdatj, Nov. 19, 1813.1 

I Rheumatism — sore tliroat, and fever, have been my 

compaoions since you left me. I have not been once to the 
house; scarcely written a single line. I wished to have 
written to dear Mrs. Clay on the subject of Randolph, but 
have not had spirits and resolution enough to throw my 
thoughts on paper. It is a sad subject,' and recalls mournful 
recollections. You can, doubtless, insinuate to her my wishes 
to have him as soon as she can bring herself to part from 
him: the sooner the better, for any advantage which he may 
derive from my tuition. My best regards to Mr. Walsh. 
Mention me in the kindest manner to dear Mrs. Clay and 
her family; also, to every one that knows and inquires after^ 
me. Good night. I must to bed. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. ] 


GeoTgetoam, Nov. 27, 18I2L '. 
Mr dvah Treodore, 

I WAS highly gratified this evening, on my return froni' 
dining .with Mr. Frank Key, to find your letter of the 23d, 
(post-marked the 25th.) I am glad to tell you that, since my 
late acute attack, when the morbid matter, whatever it be, set- 
tled in my feet, I have been quite a new man. For the first 
time, during many months, my mtnd has been relieved from 
an oppression which has clouded and Impaired all my facul- 

OB mj pwt. ts w^ m i er b» wortbr of Iwr, 



My best regards to Mr. Walsh. I shall write again sho 
ly; probably by to-morrow's mail. 

I Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
T. Blahs Dodley. 
GeoTgeloum, Nov. 39, 1812. 

AccoHDiNQ to the intimation in my last, I took the field 
to-day — but my friend Mr. Charles Slerretl Ridgely was un- 
able to accompany me; having been better employed in 
placing Mr. Lufborough's son, (the young man who was at 
Carlisle,) in an eligible berth on board the'Constellation. It 
was a blank day with me. I went out late, having waited 
for Mr. Ridgely; and although Dido behaved to admiration, 
I killed nothing except two unqualified sportsmen, a large 
owl, and a poaching cat. 1 moved several woodcocks, shot 
twice at very unfavourable chances, and returned to an 
early dinner. As this letter will be postage free, I have 
less compunction in taxing you with it. 

I shall write again to-morrow, and trouble you v 

Yours, most afliectionately, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
T. Blahd Dudley. 



YocB Ust letter Im rf Sw Ad R&ffraH Hjaie anxietf 
h I had be^o to fed, oa ja«r aeeoaaL Tint by Mr. 

I hu noi yet come la (iumL I made bcit a Tcry riwrt 

H-ith mj friend, >tr. Charles SterreU Bklgely — rhsoe 

■table micsioQ 1 left oo Moodaj UsL £xposan to old 

D igae, and Eomething Tery like cbolen nwiteSL 

|e Kldom suffered mora than I did on that sight, after 

log my lodgiogs. I wTile these few lines merely tbat 



Saturday, Jan. 9, 18lS^ 

My DEAR Theodore, 

OcB friend, Dr. Logan, will bear this letter. I in- 
tended to have sent you a remiltance-of §200, by this very 
safe conveyance; but, having only notes of one of the late 
banks incorporated here, 1 shall call at the Bank of Columbia, 
on Monday or Tuesday next, and obtain a draft on their cor- 
respondent bank in Philadelphia, for that sum. Let me know, 
as early aa possible, how much more your occasions will call 
for, that it may be supplied in due time; and, also, when you 
can leave Philadelphia, after graduating. 

Dr. Logan complains that he has not seen you at Stenton. 
You ought not to neglect cultivating so valuable an acquaJnt- 

Yours, most truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, 

Mr. Dud LEV. 



Georgetown, Friday, Feb. b, 181^ 

Mv DE4R Theodore, 

I WROTE you a hasty letter yesterday, from whlcl 
you may infer that I meditated placing Randolph immedi- 
alely at school. When I spoke of " his being separated from 
mc," I referred to the time when he should attain a proper 
age to be placed at school. You know the savage solitude 
in wbich t live; into which I have been driven to seek shet- 

iper i 
ude J 
Iwt- i 

ter. I feel that it will be but i sad change lo Utu poor 
chtlil, and, perhaps, a aituation oot entirely suiled to bb 
age, &c. 

I reel much at a loss how to act Now. tell me somdhini 
of your oum Inteations and wishe-t, as to future pursuits ud 
prospects in life. Speak to me as lo a friend, whose dad 
moiive is tlie fartherance of your own welfare. I ban 
thought of Richmond as not an ineligible posittoo for ytn; 
but only thought of it 

Pray give me the earliest information of Mr. Paririi's a^ 
rival at Philadelphia; and do oot fail to keep watch for Mr. 
and Mrs. G., and present the enclosed. They will resoh 
Baltimore to-day, and will, probably, be in Philadelphia 
about this day week: perhaps earlier. I had Uie pleasure of 
dining with Mr. Walsh about ten days ago. lie spoke ol 

Fwith gKAt regard. 
Yours, truly, 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoka i 
Mr. T. B. DoDLKr. 

Best regards to Messrs. P. and W. 


House of Repretentativfs, Taetday, f^ 9 

Djiar Theodore, 

Mr* C^wM?^ ^'T' ^•'"^ '■^'"' '""«'■ ^*" ^"•^'^ y""' Mr. itlP- 
hav^ £t B ;Ce ''' .'^ ''''"^'''''"^ ^'"■'^'^^'P^-- -"^^y 
am , " "'^^"'' ^^ SO "'« Columbia and Lan- 
«h Phil^H ,'?"'^'y 'lesirous that they should not pass 
■8' i'h.iadelph.a without your ^v^^ th^^. Sho^ 


this, unfortunately, happen, — pray enclose my letter to Mr. 
G. Mr. Alexander Walker, of that city, can give you bia 

Your letters by Mr. W. have never made their appear- 
ance. Indeed, 1 hardly hear any thing from you. Tu- 
dor was well a few days ago. He has relumed to Cam- 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoki 


Feb. 0, 1613. 


LiEUTBHANT CoLONEL ScoTT (the friend of Mr. Wat- 
klus Leigh) will hand you this letter. It is written exclu- 
sively for the purpose of giving you the pleasure of his ac- 
quaintance; for which you must consider yourself as i 

Yours, truly, 

Mr. T. Bland Dudley. 

I X wrote to you this morning, by mail. 




Wednesday, Feb. 10, 181& 
10 at night, 

Mr DEiiR Theodore, 

Mr. John VAroHANy of Philadelphia, can inform 
you of Mr. Gore's address. I am extremely desirous that 
you should become known to him, and to Mrs. Gore. Pre- 
sent me, most respectfully , to them both; and mention my 
wishes on this head. I hear nothing from, or of you. 

YourSy truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Tell Mrs. G. that her friends, the Goldsboroughs, are 
quite well; that Miss Anna Maria is as beautiful as ever, 
and Mr. Bleecker more cheerful than I ever saw him. Mrs* 
Horsey, with whom I dined to-day, and Mrs. Bayard, enjoy 
their usually good health, good humour, and good spirits: but 
Washington is a dreary place, nevertheless. 


Washington, Feb, 11, 1813. 

Dear Theodore, 

Your letter of the 8th reached me at a late hour last 
night. I have no idea of placing Randolph at school noWj 
nor for several years to come; but when the time should ar- 
rive, would prefer {cseteris paribus) putting him within 
reach of his mother and friends. 

I beg to hear from you more at full on the subject of your 


I have juBt learned that Mr. and Mrs. G. were in Balti- 
Q Tuesday, the 9th. I hope you will not miss them 
I their passage through Philadelphia: you are good at a 
Frying shot. 


I am crippled with sciatic. ^ 

The skeleton of the speech has been mounted by soma! < 
bungler who knows nothing of political osteology. I feel 
ashamed of myself — not only stripped of my muscle, but 
my very bones disjointed. 


Georgetotoft, Feb. 19, iaiK'1 
Mv deAh Theodore, 

Since the receipt of your concise letter of the 13th7" 
I have been on the verge of the grave, from one of those 
sudden and incomprehensible attacks, to which my family 
are subject. 

Mr. and Mrs. G. returned to Washington on Monday last: 
after being detained ten days in Baltimore, despairing of be- 
ing able to cross the Susquehannah, they made a retrograde 
movement, to the great Joy of their numerous acquaintances 
here. Pray inquire of Mr. Parish if he received a letter 
from me, in answer to his from Philadelphia. I sent him, 
also, Messrs. Quincy and Emott's speeches. 
I am yet sore and weak. 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanok*. 
__ Mr. T. Blaud Ovblby, 

The letter by Mr. Weir lias never reached me. My h 
respects to Mr- Walsh, when you see him. Say every thing 
fOper lo Mrs. C, and give my love to Randolph. 

^jKOper lo Ml 


orgetown, <^^| 

FredericktbuTg, Mm 
DxAB Thsooobe, 

I wBOTE to you yesterday, from Georgeti _ 

closing a draft of the Bank of Columbia on the Bank of 
PeDnsylvaoia for two hundred dollars. As soon as you can 
leave Philadelphia, I shall expect you in Virginia. Let me 
know, thai I may send horses to meet you in Richmond, and 
address your letter to Farmville. I regret that I have heard 
80 Utile from you of late; for the letter by Mr. Weir never 
came to hand. I reached this place about an hour ago, half 
dead with fatigue and rheumatism, willi which I have been 
tortured beyond measure, during the latter part of the win- 
ter; especially the last ten days. I left Mr. and Mrs. G. in 
Washington. They will, probably, reach Philadelphia in 
« course of a week from this time, and will be in your 
;bbourhood. I trust that you will see them, I expect 
idolph with you. My best regards to Mrs. Clay, 1 want 
vrile to her, but cannot at present. 
^Inet Mr. Stanford here: he desires his respects to yi 
Yours, truly, 


• B. DUDL£V. 




LETTER evil. 

Dear Thbodohe, 

Boipling Oreen, March 8, ISliCl 

FoHTTTMATELT for me, I changed my purpose of pit 
ceeding through the desert, to Carler'a ferry. Between Todd'a 
and this place, I was nearly mad with pain, and, when I got 
here, was glad enough to remain. The next day (yesterday) 
it snowed and rained incessantly, and this day must have emi- 
grated from the north-west coast of Scotland, i think it 
doubtful whether 1 shall be able to get even to Prince Ed- 
ward Court; and my essay was to have reached Buckingham. 

Tell Mrs. G. (when you see her) thati have been thinking 
of her ever since I left Georgetown; pondering on the diffi- 
culties of her journey, and "guessing," according to the New 
England fashion, " whether she would leave Washington to- 
day or to-morrow; if she had reached Baltimore; and how 
long she would stay there; and when she would arrive in Phi- 
ladelphia?" &c. 

As soon as the weather will permit, I shall go on to Rich- 
mond in Mr. floomes's carriage. 1 wish, very much, to see 

Your friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanokt; 

Mb. Theodorice Bland Dudlev. 



._ Richmond, March 10, 1818j 

Dbar Theodore, 

I LEFT the Bowling Green yesterday, after breakf 
and, thanks to the politeness of Mr. Hoomes, was enihlodrji 



reach Richmond about scTen o'clock. My delay t 
not entirely unproductive of good, for I had the pies 
passing the day, on Monday, with Mr. Garnett; who < 
to Caroline Court, in the hope of seeing some of his old tA- 
(juaintances, on their way to the south. _ The road, from the 
Bowling Green here, is worse than I ever saw it; indeed, the 
weather has been wretchedly bad since Saturday. What 
must the effect have been on the road farther north, which I 
thought had already reached their ultimatum? This re- 
flection has been uppermost in my mind for several days past, 
and gives me much uneasiness respecting Mrs. G. I pray 
you to let me hear of her safe arrival in Philadelphia, as sooo 
as possible. You have been upon a restriclire Bystem, of 

Yours, w^^^ 

^ JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoft^H 

^Mr. T. B. Dudley. ^^| 

'Dr. and Mrs. 11. ask kindly after you. ^^^H 

I My best respects to Mr. Parish. ^^^^| 

■ LETTER CIX. 1^^ 

Farmvilk, April 16, 19ia 
R Thbodobe, 

On reluming here yesterday, I found your three let- 
L of the 2d and 30th of March, from Philadelphia, and of 
Efith of this month, from Georgetown. I hasten to send 
Mter for you, and must not omit a message of Dr. Ran- 
pph, requesting you to call on him as you come up. 
SoM will have learned, before this reaches you, that, so far 
"iriamphiog ov&r ray enemies," ks ■5Q\i imt\t\i 


Ihey are triumphing over me: a triumph which, for my coun- 
try's sake, I deeply regret^ but which has no power to shake 

the firmness of my purpose, or to disturb the serenity of my 
mind. It releases me from an odious thraldom, and, I assure 
you, my dear Theodore, 1 have thought, and yet think, much 
more of the charming Mrs. G. than of the election. The low 
and base arts to which my adversaries have resorted, have 
Bot raised them, or sunk me in my own esteem. 

My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. B.,and to Kyland. Aak 
him about my shirts: I am half naked: and bring up my 
boots, left at his house. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mh; Dudlev. 

You have not mentioned whether or not you have gra- 

L ^ I 

Bi^am, March 15, 1SI3. ^^H 
My OEiR Theodore, ^^H 

I LEFT Dr. Randolph's yesterday morning, and 
peached this place about five o'clock. He requests that you 
will call upon him on your way home, and pressed me to 
mention it to you not as an ordinary matter of course invi- 

I went to-day to Prince Edward Court, and found tlie 
good people of that county as cordial to me as ever. Their 
countenances spoke the feeling of their hearts towards me. 

It is possible that Mrs. G. may not have left Philadelphia, '. 
Do not forget to speak to her of me; to recall me to her re- 
coJJection — aJlhough, I trust, tVia.V\s waTvetftssws . "^^dW^x I 

,^ I ^hdl feel demilly obhg«i to my fi 

Um ftdclity with which he executed my m, 

ba M much with her m powible, ihal when we ■»«^' 
may Ulk of her» tad Uut you may compreheod ber «*» 

Youre, always, 


■ it much grown, and quite well; » if St 

f ittW read Mr. Mercer's letter > hundred time* 
r it wa» entirely on the subject of Mi«. G. 




MisuiTDEKSTANDniG and misconception, even between 
those who reside under the same roof, are, fitnn ichatetxT 
cause, the fruitful source of misery to the best of friends. 
What, then, may they not effect, among persons less attached 
to each other than I know myself to be to you, or than I 
beliere you to be to me? Do not miscoDStnie me, whatever 
1 may observe in my conduct or observations before 

'mx cannot oblige me so much as by thinking yoursdf to 

■■ to me in the relation of a favoured son, and by acting 

'ter in my house, and on my estate, on every occasioa, 

yoar own pleasnre or a regard to my interest may 

ini^"th« ^ ^-°' ^^^^ y°" "■^'^ 5"""*^ and I was 

' might be injurious to your future charae- 

^ to encourage audh. -^"iewa, \ aeA-Aowii «^ 


pressed them. Your character is now formed. Consider 
yourself, then, as not less entitled to comrnand here, thaa 
if you were the child of my loina, aa you are the son of my 
affections. In repressing the forwardness of others I may 
have repelled you. Understand me and my feelings, and 
we shall never misconceive each other. I wish most fer- 
vently to see you in a situation more worthy of your merit, 
and I hope I shall yet live to see It . Until then, take this 
hint It is enough if you enter into my feelings — too much 
if you do not. •_^ 

Yours, affectionately, 




FarmtiUle, Saturday, Nov. fi, 19I3t: 


Jupiter got down here, last night, with your letter. 
I do not wonder that he forgot your books when he returned 
without what I chiefly sent him for — my dirk, pocket pis- 
tols, goggles, and best coat, with dress shoes, and gaiters. 

Pray speak to John Garritt to come down here and build a 
bouse for St George, He wishes it to be set about as soon 
as possible. Garritt must leave at Roanoke all the tools he 
found there, and such as I have purchased since, Phil and 
Morocco can do what work I want, until poor St. Geoi^e gets 
a shelter over his head. 

If a GOOD opportunity offers, be so good as to send me the 
things above named, with my father's picture, and three lock- 
ets; they are in my writing- table drawer. I shall direct Jem- 
my 10 bring up some herd's grass seed, from Mr, Wm. L. 
Morton's, which I wish sprinkled over the new meadjaWiWSiA, 

144 ^ hBVtBMB OV 

it my kfty ofcr the dd. Let Billj-tod Ned joiii Che oe- 
■mh at Hog Uhod. 

Jupiter ilflD forgot Mr» Churritt'0 saddle. If the poet-boy 
enmot cany it* I will send it by the wagon* 

I fear yoa haTO a aad time cf it Tell Penteeoet he em 
hare the aceommodatioQ he asks, in reapeet to the goods. I 
hope hiaaent down Rjrland'a horse. 

I thwk it would be a good plan to pot one of the three 
years' old odts^ with a steady, dull horae, t»- break op tte 

B. WoodsoOi Bedford, and mysdf, are going a eockuigia 
Nash'k low groondsi I will keep my letter open until 
we return. I killed a duck in Mr. Dupuy's mill-pond^ on 
Monday eyening, and three partriclgiBS and a eoek^ on Thnn- 
day, at Bisarre. Crame is very scarce. Send me a memo> 
randum, by the post, of such thing^i as you want, as *well u' 
o y c rs oer s and carpenters. 

Farewell, dear Tbeodorick. 

Your friend and khisman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

It is not possible to write tolerably with such tools^ 

Pray teach Dash and Clio to fetch. W. Randolph, from a 
thorn wound in the knee, has a dreadful abscess formed; for 
a fortnight his life was in great danger. Dr. L now thinks 
his limb may be sayed. 

Not a cock found in Nash's yamoti^ grounds. No wonder. 
Plenty of hogis, oxen, and horses. 

Found two woodcocks in a branch; killed both. The se- 
cond after, Woodson missed; also, a brace of partridges. St 
GreorgQ, one woodcock. Woodson and Redford, not a feather.. 
Crame very scarce. Left the puppy at home. Dido behaved 
to admiration. Woodson and Redford's guns are move than a 
quarter of a pound heavier than mine. 



Richmond, Thursday Night, Nm. 25, U 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I WAS highly gratified, to-day, by your letter of ti 
21st; for. yesterday, the post-office would not condescend to 
aflbrd me that pleasure. I wish you had touched, however 
slightly, some of the topics of my last. You will readily 
guess (as the Yankees say) those to which I refer. On far- 
ther reflectioD, I am really sorry that we resolved to break up 
the pasture. The natives here {imported, as well as indi- 
genous,) have no conception of such a turf as that which re- 
quires four horses to cut the sorf, with a coulter; and IbeUeve 
(for I did not hazard your name or veracity) that they sus- 
pected me of that vice, to which (according to honest Jack 
Falstaff) all this world is given, I really doubt the policy, 
under "existing circumstances," of destroying this turf, which 
is impregnable to the " hoof and the tooth-" _ I forgot to tell 
Jemmy to call at Wm. L. Morton's for the herd's grass seed. 
Pray send there for it, and have it scattered on the new mea- 
dow. It was not my fault, however, that he did not bring 
Garritt's saddle; for Mrs. R. and St. George both promised 
that it should not be neglected, and I left it at FarmviUe on 

Why did you say nothing of Garritt's disposition to build 
at Bizarre? As you are now a man of business, let me sug- 
gest to you that a letter, acknowledging the receipt of ano- 
ther, is not, necessarily, (logice,) an answer to it; — (by the 
way, you have not acknowledged the receipt of mine.) Look 
over your letters when you write. Reply to the points of 
moment; and superadd what you please, whether of business, 
humour, or sentiment — although, with Sir Peter Teazle, I 
say, "damn sentiment:" but not the sentiment of an unso- 
phisticated heart like yours, my son. I thank you and Colo- 
nel Morton on the subject of the sheev- '^e^^^^^**^"->'«'^^^ 


an axe which flew off the halve, as he waaspliltiog wood,ad 
had nearly given him his quietus^ you may imagine that I 
have hardly been able to make a shift for myaelf, even ii 

By Quashia I send a piece of blankets, and eighteen pair rf 
stockings, having already given a pair a-piece to each ctf the 
wagonners and boys. GivQ them another pair a-piece, and 
distribute the other dozen as may seem best 1 send, also^i 
bolt of Oznaburghs, out of which furnish the wagonners with 
two shirts each, and the boys the same; also, great coats of 
the No. 5 cottons. The remainder of the linen, and the 
blankets, to be distributed to such as most need. I han 
given little Henry one blanket 

The boys tell me that you had not got home when they set 
out I enclose fifty dollars for your oum use. If a cipher 
were added to the sum, it would be a scanty compensation 
for the services which you have rendered me during the past 
year as a professional man. 

I will write again by post 

Yours, ever, 


All the old-fashioned good wishes of the season to you. 


Richmond, Jan, 8, 1814. 

Dear Theodore, 

Quashia got down last night. I was apprehensive that 
the wagons had set out just as the bad weather commenced. 
1 have been detained here by a very unpleasant piece of bu- 
siness, which I hope to terminate to-day. I should have 


D, but I was really afraid that she would I 
injured by the jolting of ihe wagon. Rylond sent Knowles's 
gun of his own mere notion. I am disappointed at getting 
no letter, or goggles, from you. The glare of the snow puts 
my eyes out, and I cannot get a pair with green glasses in 

You will have heard the news from Europe before this 
reaches you. Advices from London, as late as the 14lh of 
November, atate that the tyrant had reached Menlz, with 
from 20 to 30,000 of his shattered army. Of course, the 
retreat by Erfurth could not have been cut off, as is stated 
in Sir Charles Stewart's letter of October 19th; that place 
being in Ihe direct line from Leipzig to Mentz — as, indeed, 
is Weissenfels (and Naumburg, nearly) — so that I cannot 
very well understand that part of his despatch which relates 
to the orders of the King of Prussia, to detach in that direc- 
tion. I had supposed that, from Bonaparte's taking the 
route of the Saale, towards Brunswick, he could not strike 
(he Rhine higher than Dusseldorf. But you have better 
maps than are accessible lo me, here. Read the Prince Re- 
gent's speech on opening parliament, and compare his digni- 
fied mention of this country, and even of France, with Mr. 
Madison's rant. Yet this rant is well suited to the meridian 
of Washington. I cannot conceive who it is that writes the 
speeches of the English Vitellius — Lord Liverpool, most 
probably: but I wish he would lend his aid to the Ameri- 
can '•»■•. These two worthy rulers seem lo agree so 
well in their notions about carrying on the war, that, per- 
chance, they might interchange speeches as well as mea- 
sures. Mr. M. makes war upon our commerce, and the 
Prince Regent seconds him by a rigorous blockade. Mr. M. 
thinks it not rigorous enough — that ?teulrals will elude it: 
he gets himself created dictator by law, and even neutrals 
are prohibited from carrying out of the country one pound 
■of its produce. This law is met, half way on its passage 
MS the Atlantic, by a British order in council, authorizing 

leapture of ali neutrals trading to l\ie\!m.V'a4.'^^\ft*- 


I send you a newspaper, and little Echo: pray take care 

of her. 

In haste, yours^ 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoka 


Mr. and Mrs. Bell^ and the Dr. and Mrs. B., make kind 
inquiries after you. 


Richmond^ Monday ^ Jtfn. 24, ISli 
From the Bank of VirgriMia, 

Dear Theodore, 

Wffh their usual attention to the public convenience, 
the familiars of the post-office have changed the day of ar- 
rival and departure of the mails. I was apprized of this 
fact by the receipt, this morning, of your welcome letter of 
the 13th, (post marked the 18th;) the only one which I have 
received from you for several weeks past I have been too 
long acquainted with the manoeuvring of the sex, and espe- 
cially of the lady in question, to be surprised at what you tell 
me: for which of my sins it is I know not, that I have sus- 
tained this long and heavy persecution, (more hot and gall- 
ing than the dreac|ful fire which killed nine of Gren.' Harri- 
son's mounted riflemen;) but I humbly hope that the penance 
will reduce the << balance " against me (to speak it la Vhr- 
ginienne) on a final settlement. 

Bonaparte has met with another defeat, near Franofort, 
(on the Maine, I presume,) and Lord Wellington has, by 
this timei entered Bayonne. Pampelune surrendered with 
4,500 men. I send you some newspapers by Beverley, who 

ir ai|^^ and who does not seem to be in any 


very great hurry to get home. He is much pleased with' 
military life; and I should not besurprised{if our army were 
on a better footing) at his entering upon that profession, 

■William Leigh promised to call on you as he went home. 
Watkins Leigh is well, much fattened, and inspirited by 
matrimony, Bouldin, too, is here; a heavy draft from our 
country of abilities and integrity. 

Perhaps you Ihink ihat I never mean to go to Philadel- 
phia, or return home: and, indeed, you have cause to enter- 
taio such a surmise. I have been detained here by circum- 
stances which, at some future day, I will explain to you, — 
They are too long for a letter. 

Mr. W. M. W, has made up to me a good deal this win- 
ter, and speaks to certain persons, {B , Mercer, Powell, 

&C.,) in such a way, as leaves no doubt of his desire for a re- 
concilialiou. He told P., Ihat my haulew to him caused 
him to vote against me! 

I fear I shall lose the opportunity of Beverley; he baa 
been missing ever since yesterday morning. J 
look out on Cambay and Beadles. 
Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke., 
1. DcDLBr. 



Mrs. Bell went yesterday to Kingston, Binwiddie, to see 
her mother, who has been very ill with a pleurisy, but is 
now out of danger. Kingston is in the south-east part of 
the county, about twenty-five miles from Petersburgh. She 
will return this day week. Her sister, Mrs. Haxal), accom- 
panied her. Miss Barton remains at "Belmont." 

I have letters from Bteecker, Quincy, Tudor, and Rut- 
Jedge. If I had answered them, I should' enclose them to 
you; but Ihty poured in this morning, according to the pro- 

Dr. and Mrs. B. salute you. You mvai come and lire . 
hen. ,^H 



Yomt letter waa handed to me a few minates sgo, at 

Dr. B 'a, by old Qaaahia. I thank yoa for thb mack dT 

your Btlentioo; for, to say the tmlh, I hare oerer iailed get- 
liog a letter from you by the wagoos, or the mail, without 
a feeling of disappointinenl. But when I think I perceive 
the cause of your uncommuoicstiTeiKss to arise from the b- 
tigue to which you have exposed yourself on my- aeconn^ 
or, perhaps, to low spirila, the effect of your present QD[4ea- 
aant situation, it tnakea me uneasy. 1 have beeo* indeed, 
very much disturbed of late, by an occurrence is anexpect' 
ed as it is distressing; and, perhaps, I tinge other ol^ls 
with the hue of the medium through which I observe them, 

I sent the books for your entertainment ^Tiy the pa- 
pers do not arrive I am at a loss to conceive, unless through 
the negligence of the post-office. They are not forwarded 
to me, here: perhaps they are detained at Charlotte C. H. 
I think I have heard of such a practice there, last winter. 

I aend a capital Scotch plough for four horses, and cast- 
iogi for another: we must see if our folks can make one. I 
wish you would have all the clover seed sown at the middle 
quarter. Cambey may take the Diomed mare and the mule 
at the lower quarter. Perhaps it would not injure some of 
the young horses to plough them: at least, it will nbt after 
the ground is broken up. I am grieved that we are likely 
to be disappointed of ice. 

Will you be so good as to plant out (if to be found) some 
wild cherry and wild currant (alias Corinth) trees. 
Quoshia (the man, not the wood,) interrupts me. 
Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roaiiol 



Richmond, Friday, Feb. 17, 18M. 
I REAcnED tliia place wilh my little charge, on Sunday 
last, too late to write lo you, my dear Theodore, I found 
Tudor here, not at all improved in heallh since I saw him in 
New York. I fear, both from my own observation, and what 
I hear, that he is not sufficiently careful of himself. Yes- 
terday the whole town was thrown into great joy by the cer- 
tainty of peace. The preliminaries were signed on the 34th 
of December. Great as my calculations have always been, 
on the folly of the British ministry, I have never made suf- 
ficient allowance on that score. Their ill-contrived expedi- 
tion against New Orleans was carrying on at the very mo- 
•ment that they were giving us peace. What a wanton waste 
of gallant men! 

I shall set out next week for Roanoke. My horses want- 
ed rest, and I have some arrangements to make here which 
have detained me, and may, probably, keep me longer than 
1 intended. I shall endeavour to bring Tudor wilh me. 
Present me to your mother and sister, if they be wilh you. 

tMost truly, yours, 


1 received a letter from you whilst ' I was at Mr. Ri 
Jy's. It had been forwarded from Philadelphia. It was 
written soon after Tudor left you. Dr. G. and Mr, and Mrs. 
S. Ridgely desire their respects to you. They all made par- 
ticular inquiries a(\er you; as did Dr. and Mrs. B. 

Remember me to Colonel Morton. 



Richmond, Monday, March 7, 1814 

Dear Theodorei 

I RECEIVED your letter by Quashia^ yesterday, after 
morning service; of course, nothing could be done until to- 
day. I directed Ryland, howeveri to get the chief article, 
iron, as soon as possible, this morning; but there are some 
other things that I wish to send up, and I have been so un- 
well for the last week as to be incapable of any thing. You 
and Tudor are, in one respect, two provoking correspoa- 
dents. You have the art of writing letters without putting 
any thing in them — and of answering^ without replying 
to your correspondent^ Add to this, that your epistles bear 
strong symptoms of hypochondriasis.. That you, my dear 
Theodore^ should be affected in this way, is not won^ierfal, 
considering the life you lead. I can scarcely bear to think 
of it You, my dear Theodore, are the chief stay and com- 
fort of my life, and it grieves me to think that you should 
be buried in the wilds of Roanoke, especially when I see 
so many dolts, here, succeeding in the profession, of which 
you have made yourself master. I think I must insist on 
your removal. I know, and admire the motive that keeps 
you where you are; and it serves but to rivet my esteem of 
you. I hope, however, that it will not prevent you follow- 
ing the bent of your inclination, should it prompt a visit to 

I send up by Quashia some sugar and coffee. I am afraid 
that you are too fastidious with me, and refrain from men- 
tioning the wants of our little cabin. For heaven's sake, 
my dear Theodore, let there be none of this between us. 
You have a right to look upon me as a father, as I do on you 
as a son. I never fail to command you. Do thou likewi^. 

I shall send coal, provided it will not interfere with some 
furniture that I b<>vn bought Quashia brings a bushel of 


t seed. It is mlher tale, but I wish it sowed on soul 
rich spot, at the middle quarter; and if not ground enough 
to be had there, the remainder at the ferry, say on the wheat 
land; although it would succeed belter with oats, if we had 
the land lo receive them. 

We will also give you some books, pamphlets, &c., which 
may serve to amuse you^ and some late papers, English as 
well as American. 

The very same thought of promoting little Quash, to the 
command of the ferry wagon, had suggested itself to me 
before you mentioned it; and I had determined to carry it 
into execution. Your plan of hiring the carriage of the re- 
maining tobacco is highly proper and advisable. 

I shall sell my colts and fillies at the May races, if practi- 
cable, and the English mares with them. If any one will 
give you a thousand dollars for Gracchus, take it. 

The Doctor and Mrs. Brockenbrough desire their best re- 
membrance lo you. I dined at Bellville, on Friday, i 
Mrs. B. and Miss Barton Inquired after you. 

Adieu, dear Theodore! 

■ I am, most truly, yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanok&i 

tr^y read Frank Key's discourse. No other paper, 
send you none. 



, Richmond, fiundiiy, March 20| 1^141 

My DEAR Theodore, 

I KAVE just now received your welcome lattM aCfl 
13th, (this day week.) Surely VV\c wvse oweaVwq'a tosA.^ "f 


strange change in our mail esiablishment, when it takes t 
week to send a letter a hundred miles. My dear son, the 
state of your health, and the evident depression of your spi- 
ritSy were not unobserved by me when we met three years 
agOy on the road from Washington to Baltimore. It cost me 
many a heart-ach to see the ravages which a winter in Phila- 
delphia had made on your constitutiouy and natural cheerful- 
ness. I ascribed them, I believe, to the right cause; but as 
you had not confided that cause to me, so neither did I feel 
myself at liberty to inquire concerning it of others. But this 
circumstance made so deep an impression on my mind, that 
I felt reluctant at the thoughts of your return the next win- 
ter; although I kept it to myself. The world has used me so 
ill — ^yety why blame the world? Those from whom I had a 
right to expect a very different conduct, have betrayed such 
shameless selfishness, so bare-faced a disregard of my feelings, 
and of my rights J that, but for you, I should sink into inve- 
terate misanthropy. Nature (to use a certain fashion of 
speaking) intended m^ for something very different from what 
I am. I have been ossified by a petrifying world. All life, 
and spirit, and confidence, and enthusiasm: I have become 
.cold, suspicious, and dead to every better feeling, except 
through a sort of faint remembrance of such as I formerly ex- 
perienced. But enough of this egotism. 

There are two not ' unknown,' but unmentioned ladies, 
who have spoken of you to me in very flattering- terms; the 

fashionable Miss M , and the elegant Mrs. W . The 

latter expressed her regret at being from home when you 
called. Mrs. Bell often inquires after you. She is my chief 
resource *of female society, and reminds me of Mrs. 6—; — ! 
The dignity and elegance of her pursuits, compared with the 
frivolous occupations or inane indolence of our ladies, in ge- 
neral, give a new charm to the beauty of her person, and the 
polish of her manners. I dined there a few days ago, and 
have quite overcome the coyness of little Mary Anne, who 
says, "/love Mr. R.'* For the misses of this, our day, (al- 
jyays excejfting 'Miss Caton and Mi|ss Barton,) I have no great 


penchant; ^nd the notableSy^Uhough very good house-keep- 
ers, .are hut poor companions. By the way, do you know 
that La Belle Goldsborough is Mrs..W. Fitzhugh? The bell 
rings, and I must to church. The Boctor and lady return 
your compliments. He is the best man in the world, and 
she.a very superior woman. Her understanding is mascu- 
line, and well improved by reading: but her misfortunes (how 
should they (ail) have cast a sombre hue 9ver her tamper and 

J shall get your-shirting and mine at the same time. 

Yours, ever, 



Charles Sterrett Ridgely desires to be remembered warm- 
ly to you. " Thanks to you (he writes to me) for entirely 
curing me of my military mania. I no longer pant after that 
phantom, military fame; am content with my lot, and wish 
only to be distinguished as an honest man, and a good citi- 
zen; and now, that I think soberly and seriously, it is a sub- 
ject of astonishment that I should ever, for a moment, have 
thought of resigning the comforts of domestic life, the socie- 
ty of my wife and children, and of friends, whom I sincerely 
love, to mix with the unprincipled and profligate, and to be- 
come the slave and tool of men, whose principles I cannot but 
detest; and that, too, in a cause which I consider to be most 

I am going to Bellville after church, and will leave my let- 
ter open until I return. Mr. Parish is at Ogden^burg. He 
has been there since January. 

I have seen Mrs. B. She returns her acknowledgments for 
your politeness. I did not see Mr. B. 




r omAM. Thbocoke, 

I Atil send yoar linen by QoMhia, as no w jy an 
i finod going towards Rouioke. I bope yoa wiD not at 
^JBt udUI you bear from me, ones more. TimnukenoneB- 
iton or Mr. Suaford. How u tfan? I bare kU the celk 
for 0150 each. 1 know that tbej are wartb nMn, bat ■>»■ 
eeamljr, &e." I wish, wben yoa write to me, you wttold cd 
to mind sDch object* as yoo wppoae would interest me: erea 
Ibe dogs, and little MoUy, I would rather hear of than BO- 
thiog. There hare been iocessant rains during the last Ibrt- 
ni^tj the earth i» piperstunited with watert aad the cn^ 
of wheat, generally ruined, except upon poor lands, that ne- 
ver produce any thiog worth the trouble of the planter. Oats 
arc, consequently, very &ne; and the grounds around Bell- 
yille ore as greeo as a leek. Mrs. B,, however, is drooping. 
She proposes going to Kingston, (her mother*^ in Diowid- 
die,) in a few days. She often mentions youj so do the Doc- 
t and Mrs. B. Of Bouldin I see nothing, and scarcely any 
iag of Leigh. 

News from Europe: Bonaparte has been roughly han> 
1 by the allies; but Austria refuses to accede to his de- 
nement. Armistice on the 5lh of March, and general 
t expected. Mr. Parish, who has got back to Fhiladel- 
i Writes that the whole Christian world will be at peace 
the -Ith of July next A letter from Tudor, of the 2d of 
y — he was well; so was Mr. Garnett,onthe9th: bothde- 
■ to be remembered by you. Adieu! 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanokl 

!*!■ of a great fresh in Roanoke. 



Camp Fairfield, Sepl. 2, 1814. ' 
Mr SEAR Theodore, 

You may be Burprised at not hearing from ftie; but, 
Isf, I lost my horses. 3d\y, I got a violent bilious com- 
plaint, not cholera, but cousin-german to it. Sdly, I heard 
the news ofWa3hington,and, without delay, proceeded hither. 
I am now under orders to proceed to the brick house, forty- 
two miles on York road, just below the confluence of Pa- 
munkey and Matlapony, Should you come down, report 
yourself to the surgeon general. Doctor Jones, of Nottoway; 
but first come to camp and see Watkins Leigh, the governor's 
aid. Apply to Ry. R. for what money you may want. 
God bless you, my son. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Dr. Dodlev. 



^H RichTnond, Sept. 7, 1814>-l| 

^^ This, I believe, is the third letter that 1 have writtei 
lo you, to-day, my dear Theodore. In truth, I can thin-k nf 
nothing but you; for, of poor dear Tudor and his unfortu- 
nate brother, I try lo think not at all. You will hear from 
me, whenever I indulge myself in rest and sleep; and beg 
that you will write by every conveyance that offers. I have 
many anxious hours on your subjects. 1 know, indeed, that 
according lo vulgar arithjnelic, you might be esteemed my 
debtor; but 1 am conscious, that, upoiv \.>:vtt s\.t\i\.t*. »s«iiw^-, 

r repay yoo, crea ia a peouiMry iniBt id twk. 

If of what I owe jroo. I (ball be U home. I hapahtf 

I of next Diooth; at toy nle, by flu JH him ■!! 

kou to make up your mint] to reraore to Ricfamand bj 

inlcM }-oij can reconcile yotmeir I0 the aimaim- 

Jof your couDlry practice, and sharing with ae at ■ 

I How i> It, that yoo alone sfaontd penot in u ic »| ii j - 

, wlwii I fin(] oil otbCTs iDMosiUe of wfaii the wscU 

Obligation? I repeal, that in a mere account of pnA 

, I have gained from your medical eervicea, alao^ 

Ithan any Qxpcnsc lo fvhich I may hare been pot on 

Bore of your education. Of the satlafactJOQ that I have 

Y your society, I will say nothing; for there is no rela- 

[clween it and a matter of money. 

Most truly, yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roaooke. 



shoes; if neceeaitry, give him the best of my boots — my 
great coat, or your own — three pair of ihe best woollen 
stockings that 1 Jefl behind. He will find my old hal, here, 
in Jones's care, which he wilt lake. Get him some good 
shirts: if they cannot be had, let him take mine. He can 
bring down Everlasting, or Tudor's mare, and wail for £ap* 
ther ordera from Mr. Robert K. Jones. 


Yours, always, 



BalliTnore, Oct. 13, 1814 *• 


Dear Treodore, 

I HAVE been detained here since Monday, by the 
consequences of an accident that befell me at Port Conway 
fopposite Port Royal) on Monday morning. At 3 o'clock 
I was roused lo set out in the stage: mistaking, in the dark, 
a very steep staircase for a passage, at the end of which I 
expected to And the descent — walking boldly on, I fell from 
the lop to the bottom, and was taking up senseless. My 
left shoulder and elbow were severely hurt; also, the right 
ankle. My hat saved my head, which was bruised, but not 
cut. Nevertheless, 1 persevered, got on lo Georgetown, and 
the next day came to Ihis place, where I have been com- 
pelled lo remain in great pain. I am now better, and shall 
limp on lo Philadelphia to-morrow. Sterelt Ridgely and 
Dr. Gibson inquire particularly after you. So did Slanford. 
I found Leigh here, but he was obliged lo go on, next day, 
to Frederick town. 

I VToSkU Smb. fiHii «■ jiuifcifcj to Wm 

JOmc KA3nMH.FB. 

rf fc r |i I Mi Riw> 

an. The Navy Tw^bsanlr 

r. SgM»e«paJ iM p M iiBrfiyaMaB<Bl 


whom I dined yesterday at Mr. T. W. Francis's. Mr. ] 
rish, with whom I dined the day hefore, Mr. Meredith, and 
many more, were present on the occasion. Mr. P. begs, and 
Dr. C, also, the most cordial remembrance to you. Yon 
must come here to live, I think. Mr. Ashmead, Jr., is ill; 
Tudor is out of all immediate danger: so a letter from Mr. 
Morris, that met me here, aod another yesterday from his 
mother, tell me. Adieu. 



Morrisanui, Oct. 28, 1814. 


Aptsr various accidents, one of which had nearly 
put an end to my unprosperous life, and conlined me nearly a 
week on the road, I reached this place yesterday. Tudor is 
better. I have hopes of him, if we can get him to Virginia 
iu hia present plight. 

I found your letter of the 6th, here. Poor St. George, 
ill-starred, unfortunate boy! — his destiny was sealed before 
his birth, or conception. Take care of yourself! You are 
my last stay. I must beg of you to curtail your practice, 
with a view to a change of life. Talk not to me of gratitude — 
you owe me notliing, I must deprecate your resetitmenl: 
your actions, and not your tongue, have spoken of gratitude; 
but for you, 1 should not believe in the existence of such a 
quality amongst mankind. You, who persist in overpaying 
me a thousand fold j whilst every other person on whom i 
have conferred a favour worl^ remembering, has returned 
DETHACTioN and dislike for the deeA. 

164 LrmM or 

I hftTe found a market for the brood maresL 

Yourg) ever, 


Stephen, old S'e. son, is with ui: we let out on the diy 
after to-morrow. 


New For*, Nov. 17, 1814 

It 18 not my fault, but my misfortune, my dear Theodore, 
that you have not heard from me since I left Baltimore. I 
wrote to you from Philadelphia, and made express mention 
of your friends there, and of their particular inquiries after 
you. Mrs. Clay, Mr. and Mrs. Croskey, Dr. Chapman; 
Mr. Parish, too, was pointed in his questions. As soon as 
I had seen Tudor, I wrote to you concerning him, and my- 
self, also; for, on returning from Morrisania on Sunday the 
24lh of October, the driver overturned me in Cortlandt 
Street, by driving over a pile of stones, &c., before a new 
house, unfinished, which nuisance extended more than half 
way across a narrow street. I am very seriously injured. 
The patella is, in itself, unhurt — but the ligaments arc very 
much wrenched, so that a tight bandage alone enables me to 
hobble from one room to another, with the help of a stict 
I have written every week since. Your letters of the 6th 
and 16th of October, and 7th of November, came to hand: 
the last this day. But one from Mr. R. K. Jones, of the 6th 
of November, did not reach me until yesterday; and another 
from Tudor, written at Philadelphia on the 2nd, is entirely 
lost. Others broken open, (oae from Mr. Quincy,) and de- 
layed intolerably. Nay, I am subject to other ill treatment 


into the bsrgain> for insisting that my letters shall be deli- 
vered to my seirant, and to him only. 

I hope to be able to bear the motion of a carriage^ by the 
last of this week. I shall then go on to Philadelphia, and 
hope to see you by the first week of next month. Assured- 
\y, (God willing,) before Christmas. I am a poor miserable 
cripple, and you are my only support God bless you, my 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Mr. Bleecker is here, and all to me that I could wish. 


Philadelphia, Dec. 4, 1814. 
My best Frieitd, 

Oif my arrival here, (four days ago,) I hoped to have 
found a letter from you, but was disappointed; and a sore diS'' 
appointment it was. I scribbled you a few lines, the same 
evening, at Mr. P s, that I might lose no time in ap- 
prizing you how, or where I was. Poor Mrs. C! — ano- 
ther brother has been taken from her since I left this place, 
for New York. I feared as much, but did not dare to ask. 
At last, yesterday, came a meagre letter from Tudor, an- 
nouncing that, in consequence of Mr. A's. death, he had 
not delivered my letter to Mrs. C, on the subject of my 
little name-sake. It is dated at Richmond, on the 25th of 
November — the second letter, of one straggling page, that he 
has written me from that place. Not a word of you, or his 
brother. Although at a great sacrifice of time, health, and 
what, to a man in debt, is of more consequeuc^vVi^w^VCftfex ^^ 


?r. I weut oa to New Vork te anist bis tnoUier borne: 

ci i!etf^«(l to drop me a line, orereo to mealionme 

a'i ktlvn. Notmihstuidiiig be staid three days in 

dphu, u>d I begged him to sit for tne to Sully, she 

A permit him, aader the thin pretext that the paint 

rore injurioug to his luogs; although Sully would 

bed on him >t his lodgiiigs, or would have taken bim 

r colours. Todor axTi, " I am extremely sorry, my- 

Mit the picture, and thought it very practicable and 

Ito have one lakes." 

^tvcc to you a letter, on the momiog of my departure 
|ihi9 pbce for New Vorfc; I think the IStfa of October. 
nTtti«n since, not loa than oaee a week; ofbea twice 
|hrioe. The drst use 1 made of myself, after my fall at 
ort, W3a lo give you »a account of my disaster. Your 
■rtler is oi* the loth of November, acknowledging mine 
lUaliimore. Tfiis is, probably, the last that I shall ad- 
;i from this place; but, no matter, write on to Stan- 
Uy clapping a large, bot waxen seal on your 
i!.ic«if entirely the impression of your seal, as your 


As my letter of October 18th was, probably, -violated, ■ 
me not forget to mention that Dr. C. spoke of you i 
the warmest regard; also, a lady that shall be nameless. 


York BwUdings, Dec. 24, 1! 

Thi9 is the 37lh day since ray arrival here; and, in all that 
time, I have not heard a syllable from you. My anxiety on 
this subject would be less, had I heard from you within the 
last fortnight of my stay in New York; but, since the 17th of 
November, when your letter of the 7th came to hand, I have 
not received a line from you. Let me earnestly entreat you, 
my best friend, not to leave me again in this stale of suspense; 
and should you be sick, and nobody have the humanity to in- 
form me of it, unsolicited — let me beg of you to requestsomc 
neighbour to write me, if it be but one line, to tell me how 
you are. In your next, let me know the dates of the letters 
which you have received from me,- since I sent Jupiter home. 
In looking over yours I can find but three: Oct, fi and 16, and 
Nov. 7.. During that period, I have written to you (besides 
my letters from Amelia and Richmond) from Baltimore, on 
the 18th of October; from this place, on the 19th; and from 
New York, always once a week, often twice, and sometimes 
thrice, from the 81st of October to the 26lh of November, in- 
clusive. Since I came to Philadelphia, I have WTittcn twice. 
I am thus particular, because you most generally omit to no- 
tice the receipt of my letters, as well as some of the topics oa 
which they treat. 

I ale my Christmas dinner, yesterday, with Mr. C, and 
spent the evening with Dr. and Mrs, G. At both places you 
were the subject of conversalioD-, ani ftiey a&^ttNNKtti'ctiR.Vj 

toon eordian J atudicd ta jt 

t of 1 Iciur frocn foo, tkii Bomiag — ycsterdsy^ being 

, we dill not aeod lo ifce part office — and, in the hilk- 

r this hope, t nt in my eJMM t JKr , with Mr. P., ontil 

Tha menun^ al bnakiuL, ifae airier uriTed with 

epadEct, bot " nothing for me;" and mj bean has wok 

s the mercory, this bitter cold daj. From Tualor, 

ft ate, I have receired three scanty ptgis of wide 

licg liDCS.each. I sometimes aak myself, "Whit 

natter? I hare written and talked to my bojs 

;h. They hardly deign a word, or a line, in r^y- 

(trtn more reserred, they would hare been less oo- 

Qicaiive.'' Then, again, I say, *' Wh*t man ever bad 

son than my Theodore ? one more dutiful, more af- 

l>aate, more manly, and ind^Kodeat? Poor fellow; he 

i of drudgiog for me, and for himself, loo; besides, the 

f post-masters — do I know their tricks ? — or, perhaps, 

" This thoueVit is cruel; for I must wait a 



York Buildingi, Dec. 27, 1814. 

I roiJRD your letter upon my table, yesterday, when I re- 
turned from my morning visits, to dress for dinner. It was 
s most sensible relief to me, as you may suppose, from the 
complexion of my letter, written yesterday morning — which 
I now almost regret to have sent: however, you will receive 
this at the same time; and it may not be amiss to have shown 
you howimportantit is to my comfort to hear from you, if not 
regularly, at least at shorter intervals than of fifty days. I 
perceive that, io your last, you acknowledge to have received 
my letter of the 17th of November, in answer to yours of the 
7th{ so that, exclusively of two others, from this place, it was 
your turn to write: hut you are not the only correspondent 
who has alleged, as a reason for not replying to my letters, 
that he expected to hear from me again- I had arranged 
the epistolary campaign with admirable skill. My friend S., 
at Washington city, occupying the middle ground, was se- 
lected as the medium of communication, and was to forward 
to the north, or send back to the south, all packets ad- 
dressed to me, agreeably to the instructions he should re- 
ceive; and, being on the main line of daily posts, I kept him 
advised, twice or thrice a week, of my movements or posi- 
tion — so that, upon the whole, my dear doctor, I cannot per- 
ceive the equity of your plea, of " ignorance where a letter 
would meet me." 

I am truly gratified to hear that your mother has been with 
you. I hope she will soon return and solace your solitude 
with her presence. When I shall get back, is, as yet, un- 
certain, from the state of the weather. I shudder at facing the 
north-west wind, in an open carriage, with my young charge. 
1 hope you did not communicate to your mother any part of 
my letter, except that which contained the request that a 

170 LETTERS or 

would relate the eireumsUnees of my brother's death. H« 
▼isit to VirgiDia was entirely unexpected by me; I hope to 
have the pleasure of seeing her before she returns to Tenno- 
see. Her company, at all times the most desirable to yoo, 
mast, under present circumstances, possess an unusual chfmi. 
You mention nothing {more veatro) of your father and fami* 
ly — particularly, of my favourite Fanny. 

I regret, too, that you make no mention of your frieadi 
here, who speak of you with the most cordial regard. Dr. 

and Mrs. G., the C s, G s, Mrs. H.^'a most chara- 

ing woman, and Dr. and Mrs. Ch. I have seen, too, yoor 
pretty Mrs. W., and am invited to dine there, on Saturday; 
but two previous invitations prevent my ending the year thus 
agreeably. I commence it with Mrs. W. 

This oold weather will, I trust, fill our ice-house. Your 
care respecting the negroes' clothing, and every thing else, 
demands more than I can repay. You say, << Qtiashia saw 
Mr. R., on his return from Richmond.'' I hope he has not 
forgotten my orders on the subject of returning via Farm- 
ville: they are express and peremptory; and I am resolved 
on breaking up all communication between my estate and 
that neighbourhood. 

If you did not give old Essex my great coat, send it down 
to Richmond, to Adam M., by the first safe conveyance. Re- 
member me to him, and Jupiter, and Nancy, and little Mol- 
ly, and Hetty, and all the people. I hope Jupiter does well. 
Dr. C. says the fern is all a deception. It is a common 
plant, growing about springs; but of no virtue in Taenia.* I 
am very anxious about my little bay Minimus. Also, re- 
specting the foals of Lady B. Duette, the heir of Brunette, 
and Duetto's grand-son. These 1 take to be the best on the 
estate. . The two years' old colts are not much, except Lady 
B?p. J which I wish to be well kept. Remember me to old 
Carlo, and Dido, and Sancho. Farewell. You say nothing 

* Abes and spirits of turpentine axe ttioxai^Vi^ ^gcMdut^TcmSkwiw 


of St. George's disease. I presume, therefore, he left you as 
well as he was on the 16th of October. 

Most truly, yours, ^ 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke.^ M 

Dr. Bddlet. M 

Mr. P. remembers you kindly, 

A letter from Mr. B. and Dr. M., of New York, in towH(. 
both most acceptable events. 


Richmond, Satvuday fiighLM 
Aouemfrer, 19, 1815. 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

Since I wrote to you this morning, by Mr. Carring- 
ton, who promised to send the letter to you as soon as he 
got home, I'learned from my friend Mrs. Cunningbam, {who 
makes the kindest inquiries after you,) that Mrs. Lacy is 
dead. This breaks up all my schemes with regard to Ran- 
dolph, whom, of course, you will not send down. I shall 
come up, or send for him, as soon as possible; but, as it is 
raining very hard al this lime, (half past eight,) and I am 
not a Halifax man, I despatched this letter by Mr. Bruce to 
advise you to that effect. He sets out to-morrow; and, al- 
though he has the influenza very badly, I have no doubt that 
he will persevere in the journey. He was engaged, and the 
"Captain bold," also, to dine at Mr. T'a. on Wednesday 
last After keeping us waiting until dark, we sat down to 
dinner, and next day learned that they were too busy load.- 
iag their wagon to come. Mr. B. was en^a^^i.^^^-'yE^^'^ 
to dine at Dr. B's., but business alR'a. Ve-pV-Vixtft vw*-^,^ 

|7t UnTBBS OF 

the Doctor was infonned to^y. But I am growiag im- 
dalouti Mr. tnd Mrs. C, it whose house I tm wriiingi«Bl 
their reqpects to you. 

Youri» ever, 

JDHN RANDOLPH, of Roenoks. 

Dr. Hoge preaches poor Tudor's funeral 0er9ion this day 
week at Cumberland Court House. 

I am afraid you will have a dreadful time of it on your 
way to Tennessee. The water-courses in that country will 
be hardly passable. Suppose you spend tlie winter heR) 
and defer the journey until April. I fear for your health. 
Messrs. C. and W. D.^ the last of whom has been to Nasb- 
▼ille, represent it as a rash undertaking. Mr. D. has been 
there: pray consult him before you set out 


Babel, Jan. 13, 1816. 

I waoTE to you on this day week from Georgetown. Oa 
reaching the house, I learned that my brother Harry had 
been overturned ihe day before in the Winchester stage, and 
was dangerously hurt. I set out immediately^ and found 
him confined to his bed, about thirty miles above Alexan- 
dria. He lyas severely wounded, and has suffered extreme 
pain; but I left bim out of danger on Thursday morning. 
Mrs. T. reached him on Thursday evening. On my return, 
I found your letter of the 30th of December, and the en- 
closed elegant epistle unsealed. I am glad to hear that you 
have antioipated my nreserlption^ and rejoice in your sport- 


ing sueeess. This fine weather will, I hope, fill our ice- 
house — a most Important consideration. 

Your Tennessee news is not so good. In a case of this 
sort, however, I always pity the parents — the child never. 

You say nothing about the dogs. Has Sancho recovered 
his eye-sight? Is Dido likely to have another litter, and 
how comes on the puppy? 

In haste and confusion. 



I have enclosed M. a check for his money. 



Jan. 21, 18ia 

Mr heart misgave me that something was wrong. Poor 
Sally! I wish she had staid wiih us. My dear Theodore, 
I am anxious about you to a degree that I cannot express. 
I would not thwart one feeling of yours — much less tear 
you from your family under such circumstances. Come 
home as soon as you can. Remember that I have lost my 
parents, and my brethren. You have many left. This is 
the first tribute that the grim King of Terrors has levied 
upon your family. Take comfort from what is left to you, 
rather than dwell upon what you have lost. See Rutledge, 
if you can. If not, send him my letter by a safe hand. I 
wish you had added, if it had been but three lines, to tell 
me how you are, and how the journey agreed with you. I 
am well. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RMSiY)OV.VW,Q^"e.awaV^. 




Mr. dwlw & R. left me jresterdaf morning: he doini 
bcM rcfirds to you. 

am at SX Gcofgetowo; where 1 fare better than atn 
«M lodgiiiga. 


•, Sunday, Feb. 
|It UKAK TllKOI>OllE, 

YouH short and melancholy letter of December 29th, 
Npted, 1 have received not a line from you since your de- 
"parture for Tennessee. Judge my uneasiness at this cir- 
cumstance. Surely if you were ill you would get some one 
of the family to write, if it n-ere but a line. I last night 
sprained both my ihumbs, and several fingers of each hand, 
in trying to save my face from the consequences of a fall oc- 
casioned by treading, at the top of a steep staircase, on my 
own tail — the surtouts now reaching to the shoe buckles, and 
being somewhat a better defence to gentlemen's legs than 
that afibrded to the /eel oT ladies by their petticoats; ladies 
having, yoti know, no legs. 

I shall write again as soon as 1 get back to the city of 0. 
Many kind inquiries after you by Sterrett R., Dr, G., &c. &c 
Poor N, is destroyed body and mind by paralysis. Miss E., 
I am iold, is as beautiful as ever. I came to R's. country- 
house, this day week, and escorted Madame hither on Thurs- 
day last. We return to-morrow. My best regards to all 
the family. Poor Sally! I had flattered myself that she 
I)rouId return to Virginia, and make one of our famil; 

Yours, ever, 


t she 




Feb. 26, leiS^ 
Mr DEAK Theodore, 

Your letter of the 4th instant has relieved me fro 
a state of most cruel and anxious suspense. How could you 
leave me for weeks (almost months) in such a situation? I 
have worried the Tennessee delegation with inquiries, and 
received only the most dismal accounts of the mortality in 
Nashville, and the surrounding. country. Your letter is dated 
Santonhoe, if I read aright Where is that place situated? 
Where is Fayetteville? for I presume you do not mean Cross 
Creek, (as it used to be called,) in North Carolina. I wish 
you could get my letter, in safety, to Rutledge. 
I refer you to Colonel M. for news of Beverley. 
Yours, truly, 


I am barely in time for the mail. 


MmiAay Morning, April 8, IS16. 
1 HAVE sent you some English papers. Read and take 
care of them. Poor S. is, I fear, dying. Jupiter is knocked 
up, nursing him. An important bill is now reading, (tariff,) 
which 1 must speak upon. Ad ieu, dear Theodore. My own 
health not good. 



w e a rmA * 

n il! g ■ > ■■■. j^rii II. im 


j^ bow iBDcb I WIS gratified hf thi 
^!^ the 25th March; which did not 
Mt seu Thmbou '^^ too hte to reply lo it by retnra of 
Yocmriwif yX%(^TCd ODe from Colonel M., of the 
excepted, I hne y^i^it ■mooned that you had not got biek; 
porture for Ter j>.l^inth that set for yoer departure, I wv, 
ctrmstuiee. S '^'^A * 8°"^ ^^ uneasy about you. In- 
of the iamily t^'^gt awful ar>d depressiDg. Yesterday we 
spnined boti #C^/^d by his bed-side the night before he 

ID Uying to iJVj /upiter was worn down by nursing him, 
casioned by lyf^f the effects of it: he returned home on 
own tail — f^f^'"^ **" ''"'* ''<=^ *^" since. My own 

being 8or ^^^ch better, and my ^irits worse. As soon 

thataffon ^ii^^d roads wiil permit, I shall bend my course 
I "haJ ^J^^ "7 projects. I send you, by Mr. D., some 

*"■""& .' ^%1W '"" wstained upon my tobacco, will put in 

Poor y ^f Most affectionately, yours, 


house, ^ 

dayli- ^ir' 

the fi - '.0t»^ youi mother. 




Afrnidoy, April 15, 1816. 
Deah Doctor, 

Your half sheet, of the lllh, did not reach me until 
to-day. If you remain in Richmond a week, you will stand 
a chance to see me. How is it that you say nothing of any 
body or any thing? — not even of Randolph. To my surprise> 
I received a letter from Beverley, dated the 10th, at Sich- 
mond! London would not have been more unexpected. 
You do not mention him; and, of course, I ought to conclude 
that you have not met 

Our house must be bare of nJany necesaariea. Fray get 
such as are most wanting. Besides groceriea, towels and 
sheets are requisite. Poor Jupiter is, at last, out of danger. 
He nursed Mr. S. 

Mr, P., of Philadelphia, is well, and entertaining his ex- 
majesty and marshals of France, Spain, &c, R. R., jr., is 
well, and doing well. Mr. F. K. has been ill with the pre- 
valent epidemic. Adieu! 

Yours, truly, I 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. \ 

Dr. Dudlev. 

We shall want some lime to plaster the house. 1 liave got 
bolts for the windows, and shutters, and ordered chimnsjf^ 

17S Lm'EBs or 


Ridinumd, Aug. 10, VSl^ 
Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I LEFT home on the Monday (July 29th) afler yoor 
departure: four dismal days I passed by myself, and one 
night with Colonel 'M. On Friday evening we had a re- 
viving shower, and a sprinkle on Saturday; whereupon it 
turned suddenly cold, and has continued ik) almost ever nnoei 
I called at Peter R's. ; and, on Tuesday mornings July 30tl^ 
we bad a large fire: also, the night before. On Tuesday I 
reached Dr. R's; and, on the 1st instant, this plaee. I have 
sold my tobacco for twenty dollars, payable the 1st of July 

Dr. and Mrs. B. had set out for Philadelphia the day be* 
fore my arrival. They will be at the Warm Springs aboat 
the last of this month. I have been seeking a private op- 
portunity to send you a letter from your father, which I re- 
ceived on Sunday, July 28th. I shall give it, with this, into 
the care of Mr. T. T. 

Mr. and Mrs. C, and Mr. and Mrs. W., and Messrs. M., 
J., and T., inquire particularly afler you. I go up, to-day, 
with the two first, as far as H. H's., on my waj** homeward: 
M. will accompany me. I met St. George at R's., on the 
Ist instant He looks very well. Richmond has been clear 
of dust, heat, and insects, for ten days past: it has even ver- 

You may imagine how anxious I am to hear from you. 
May God bless you, my son. 

Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Semeniber me to Juba« 



Roanoke, Sept. 3, 1816. 
Mr DBAS Tbbodor£, 

TsEHK has been no rain here, except a slight shower 
on the Friday (July 26tii,) after your departure, since you 
left us. The consequences you may well imagine. The to- 
bacco crop is shortened at least two-thirds, and a general ap- 
prehension of famine pervades the land. Six and seven and 
a half dollars have been given, in advance, for new corn, from 
the slack. 

Mr. J. and Mr. B. spent a day with me; and the latter has 
promised to give me another, to-morrow, on hia return from 
Halifax. The state of my health has been worse than usual, 
of late. I have had a severe bilious attack on the bowels, for 
the last three days. 

Your letter of the 2d of August, post-marked the 9th, from 
the Sulphur Springs, reached me on Sunday, the 25th of the 
same month. I was truly comforted to learn that the waters, 
even upon so short a trial, had proved beneficial to you. God 
grant that you may tiod complete relief from them. You 
nothing of Juba. 

Col. M. inquires kindly after you; so have many others— 
Mr. W. M. W. His father I have not seen since we parted. 

Hearing that Capt. B. sets out for the Sweet Springs to- 
moirow, I write this by candle-light, in our solitary cabin, 
with the back of the only pen in the house. 

God bless and preserve you, my son. 


Monday, August 19, Thermometer 94° 

Wednesday. " 21, frost! 69° highest this dajr,J 

Monday, " 28, 81'= 

Thursday, " 29, frost! 60" at 2 hours by si 

Monday, September 2, 90° 90° 

Tuesday, " 3, at 7 P. M. as? 


I wrote you by T. T.^ and sent two letters— one from your 


* Gtotgetown^ December 28^181^ 

Ths encloaed letter, from Mr. C, will probably remind 
you of a conversation between us, the day before St. Greoi|p 
embarked for Philadelphia. I have now been here eighteen 
daySy and not a line have I received from Virginia, except 
T'i. and M's. letters. I say from Virginia, because I ban 
received two other letters; one from England, written by Mr. 
Wilberforce, on the subject of colonizing the free blacks. 

We have had delightful weather during the last fortnight 
It reminds me of affairs at home — ^particularly the carriage 
of the tobacco, for which it is especially favourable. 

My health has been very indifferent since I came here; but 
I think I have derived some benefit from a nightly dose of 
magnesia, a small tea spoonful. 

Let me hear how you are. I am here, except when in the 
house, almost as much alone as when at home. 

Farewell, my dear Theodore. 

Yours, truly, 




Geargeloum, Dec. 31, 1816. 

I HE VEK received a letter from you, my dear Theodore, 
that gave me more pleasure than your last; itwas the first, al- 
so, of the 23d. Your hymenial and sporting intelligence 
were highly acceptable; the first, as you conjecture, altogether 
a surprise upon me. Give to the bride and bridegroom my 
cordial congratulations on the event: I know not how to offer 
them to my worlhy old neighbour — to whom present me, in 
the most friendly terms. Pray let me know whether he 
will, by this occurrence, be left entirely solitary. I am sure 
that if he had had the choosing of his son-in-law, he could 
not have been more highly gratified in thatrespectjand such 
ia his affection for Lucy, that, I am sure, not a thought of 
himself enters into his mind. Indeed, he is fortunate in see- 
ing'her, before he leaves this world, committed to the pro- 
tection of a deserving man — yet, I am persuaded that, if he 
live alone, he will not live long. 

You forget, that when I mentioned Traquair'a letter, I told 
you that the boxes were locked, and that tJie keys were 
hanging in the north closet. All the boxes, but one, contain 
books; the papers are in tJie other, in bundles, alphabeted. 
The letter contains a design for a fire place, and is wanted. 

As for the hypo, let me prescribe broken doses of Pigou & 
Andrews' preparation, of carbonated nitre and sulphur, with 
q. s. of prepared lead. I hope you will not expose yourself 
in the practice of your profession. BhJ 

God bless you, my son. ,|^| 


P. S. — I have been interrupted by company. You say no- 
thing of Essex, &c., and little Molly. Are you aware that 
you are becoming careless in your orthography: "puzzle," 
with one z. Also, "ba^ed. " I hope you will not fmd my 
corrections like Wm. Jenkins' reproof of Molly Jones, 



Jmu H 1811 

No letter from you, my detr Theodore; el which I m 
good deal disappointed, and somewhat concerned. I wnUi] 
yesterday, acknowledging yours of the dOth. Your expk 
A la chasstf have been made known to mil the eoiirti eti 
tjurope, at least to their ministers, so far as the great tul 
small powers are represented here— for the whole corps & 
plomatique were present yesterday when I read the eztrad 
of your letter to one of that body, at the haard of l>eio| 
considered as one carrying on a treasonable correspondeiM 
with England. 

What of clover seed? Of Spot and Roanoke?— one oi 
both of which I shall want very soon. Of the dogs? ADd, 
though last, not least, of old Essex & Co., and little Molly. 

I have bought a fine pipe of Madeira. Did Quashia bring 
up the quarter cask? Remember me most kindly to Colo- 
nel M. 'f also to C, S., and their families* 

Ever yours, 


Dr. Dudley. 

Our friend Dr. R., of Amelia, has been here dying with 
the gout 



Babel, Jan. 20, 1817. 


No letter from you to day, my dear Theodore, The date 
of your last is December 30th. Pray try and contrive to 
send your letters to Feteraburgh or Richmond, or any place 
on the main line, by private hand. 

A Mr. Johnson, (not Jackson,} of Virginia, took occasion to 
be very scurrilous towards -me, on the alleged account of an 
expression used by the last session, and repeated a few days 
ago on the compensation law, as it is called. Mr. B, seemed 
also disposed to hold oficnsive language on the aame subject, 
rising, after a most laughable and good-humoured discourse 
of R., (C's. bull-cair,) and replying, as I had done, to what 
was said the day before. I was informed that the aSair was 
concerted, and that I was to stand a fire along the whole 
line- I determined, therefore, to tread it out; and will en- 
deavour to report for you my remarks, aod send them by 
to-morrow's mail. Mean while, I must draw a check for 
C, whose receipt please to take, and tell him that the money 
has been lying idle; but I wanted to see whether he aud P. 
would not write about their own affairs, as they would not 
about mine — although earnestly requested thereto. Since 
Friday, it has been bitter cold, and I am afraid some of my . 
poor people may sufier. No doubt there is ice in abu^ 

Mr. Secretary D. is dead. 

Remember me kiokly to Colonel M., and send me a copy 
of your meteorological diary. 

Entirely yours, 

C. must endorse the check. 


Otorgeloten, MonJatf Mor 
Jan. 27. 1917. 

No letter from you, my dear Theodore, since that of De- 
cember 30lh. in do not find one uhcn I get to the house, 
I shall cot know what to thiok. Indeed, that is my present 
situation. I am truly uneasy. Sometimes I think you have 
set out to Tennessee, to see some sick relation. Then I 
fancy you in that situation, alone, without a friend; although 
I should rather have Essex than any nurse or attendant I 
ever saw. Then, again, I reflect on my want of success in 
teaching you and Tudor (poor Tudor!) to write regularly to 
me when you were boys, or to descant upon the topics that 
were most interesting to me, and I try to be easy. 

A letter from Harry T., dated Winchester, Jan. 23d. In- 
stead of a "fracture of a process of the scapula," bis case 
" proves to be a very unusual dislocation of the os humeri." 
"Two days ago, two very skilful gentlemen of the faculty 
attempted its reduction: after a variety of efforts, during 
three hours, aided by four strong men, they found it Imprac- 
ticable. They resolved to repeat the experiment on Satur- 
day nest, but, in the mean time, I have resolved upon an- 
other procedure, and shall set out to-morrow for Philadel- 
phia, and place myself under the direction of Physick." 
(My earnest advice to him three weeks ago, when I first 
saw him lying at the turnpike-gate, at Goshen; for although 
i did not know what was the matter, I would have ventured 
my life that the individual "Rushian" attending him, al- 
though the boon companion of Mr. W., and of as great 
fame in medicine as this last In law, knew nothing of the 
case. He pronounced that there was neither fracture nor 

izalion, and that H. T. would be well in a short time. 

[ben asked here, I told every body his, and then my opi- 
idj in reply to the enclosed letter, told my brother 


that I had not the least expectation of hia being able to take 
his seat in Congress this winter. He adds: — ) " In hia skill 
I may expect auccess, if it can be commanded. Evelina will 

Iiompany me, as 1 find her aid easenlial to me." ^^ 

Yours, H 


I have given F. K, one of my mares; and, if she be not 
prime order, shall select Everlasting for him: if not, the 
little gray out of Telegraph, unless you can suggest a better. 
I make no reservation, except of Lady B., her filly, and 
Duchess's filly. If my good colls and fillies are starved 
this winter, I shall be much displeased, unless all the rest 
are knocked on the head. If, after that process, there i» 
not enough provision, I must be content. 



Georgetown, Feb. 4, 181"; 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

I wnoTB you a long letter yesterday by post — I widi 
I could recall it; for the servant of my colleague, T, N., is 
just about setting out for his master's house, and will pass by 
Wyllie's, or Goode's. I took the precaution, however, to 
enclose my letter, yesterday, to R. G., of Manchester: that 
will guard against its lying in the Richmond office; one of the 
great causes, indeed the chief one, of delay. I cannot help 
thinking, from my having received your last, (the 26th, post 
marked the 37th, reaching me on the 1st instant, Saturday,) 
that there is a change in the mail establishment. This may 
have caused you to receive no letter fcoraKveo^^.^^4a-'^*'>^- 

yon wrote )«stt (Sunday, the 26tb of January.) So mad 
for the post Mr. N. did not nieation to roe his 
ping, until last evening, and I was then too much ezhnft 
ed, by severe parliamenUry duty, and a bad sore throat la^ 
cold, to write. The tveaiher has been intensely severe maa 
the nigbt of Friday, the I7lh of January, with the exceptin 
of one or two days. Saturday, the 35th, and Sunday, (tb 
coldeat day this year I believe,) the S6lh, were exceediii|^ 
cold, indeed; and since that period we have not had a dif 
that was otherwise. Saturday and Sunday last (1st and id 
February} were not unpleasant; and, in the evening of Sua- 
day, I thought we were going to have a thaw, but it anowcd 
eostiveiy at night, with a wbisiling norlh-wester; and it ba 
been freezing hard ever since. 1 dread the thaw. The Po- 
tomac is frozen over, I presume, to its very mouth. It 
light at Nominy, {not very far above,) some days since. It 
is there c)uite salt, (oysters being obtained,) and about twelve 
miles over. The Chesapeake, I have no doubt, is froEen 
across at Annapohs. Loaded wsgons cross the Potomac 
Pray aend me your journal: I mean a copy. 

Now, what do you think? — Henry T's, shoulder, that wu 
at first neither dislocated nor broken, but then dislocated bj 
the same doctor, (neither physician nor surgeon;) next, by 
" two able Winchester physicians," pronounced not to be 
dislocated, but fractured in the corocoid process of the sca- 
pula, then, by the same "two able" leeches, (reconsider- 
ing their opinion, like Congress, ia order Id make confusion 
worse confounded,) declared to be a dislocation, unusual, of 
the OS humeri; whereupon the said "doctors," and "four 
strong men," put the said patient to the rack, without suc- 
ceeding in tearing asunder all the muscles and ligaments. 
This injury has been decided, by P., W., and D., (we have 
now got to the court of appeals, and can go no farther, — 
right or wrong, the case is decided,) to be a fracture of the 
OS humeri! and my poor brother ia likely to be able to attend 
Congress before the end of the session. This beats Moliere, 
jpf X<e Sage, hollow. ^^ 



Now, my dear Theodore, for I think ! shall never call 
you " Doctor" again, on the receipt of this, let the wagons 
aet out, if they have a load, for Manchester; if not, some 
trusty hand, (not Paul, but little Quashia, or Simon,) must 
carry down Spot and Roanoke, my new saddle and bridle, 
snaffle, ditto, my boots, that M, brought me, and my tuAite 
leather breeches. My portmanteau, saddle, and the pillion, 
straps, &c,, to be left in the care of R. J., or M. The new 
saddle, covered with a blanket, the irons and stirrup leathers, 
papered — that ia, if the wagons cannot come; then let it be 
sent in a box. It is material that the wagons should make 
their trip to Richmond before the frost breaks up; the roads 
are now good. I shall write this day for plaster of Paris 
and tar: the clover seed has been ready these two monlhg. 

You have not said a word about the dogs; nor in your 
of the household. 

My best regards to Colonel M. 

Your affectionate and grateful friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke,. 

Dr. Dudley. 



A letter from Rutledge, of the 4th, He had not then re- 
ceived one that I wrote before I left home, and put into the 
post-office the day of my departure — or, rather, the next 
morning, Monday, the 17th of December. I rather incline 
to believe you did not send it to the post-office for me. 
•Apropos, there ia in my room a letter addressed to Oliver 
H., Esq.: pray enclose it me. 

Send by Mr. N's. servant F, K's. mare. Choose for him, 
and send her, about the 30th, by Simon, to Mr. J. N. I 
except only the English mare, and Cornelia. You may send 
Everlasting, or the gray daughter of Telegraph, 
former letter on this subject, as to exceptions. 



Feb. % 1817. 


Tons letter of the 2d was put into my hands 
morningy just is I was about to make my last djiqg speei' 
To-morrow you will, probably, receive my letter by Tq» 
day's mail; and, more probably, that by Mr. N's. aenrut 
I haye do farther request to make, than that my boots mif 
be sent; for want of which, through Juba's Diligence, I is 

Your memory is very good about the weather. It talllei 
with my memoranda — ^which are as follows;—^ 

)817«^an., Friday 10, warm; hail at night, turns eold, 

Saturday 11, very cold. Sunday 12, coldest 

day, to this date. 
Thursday 16, mild. Friday 17, warm; soow 

at night, turns cold. 
Saturday 18 — Sunday 19, colder than any days 

Thursday 23, snow. Friday ?4, three changes 

to-day; cold. 
Saturday 25, very cold. Sunday 26, ditto; 

snow, colder than ever. 
Monday 27 — 30, bitter cold. Friday 31, cold. 
Feb., Saturday 1, mild. Sunday 2, milder; snow At 

night, very cold. 
Monday 3 — 5, very cold ; last the coldest day 

Friday 7, mild in comparison. Saturday 8, 


Dr. B h passed through this city^ on Tuesday and 
Wednesday last, to Richmond. I barely saw him. The clo- 
ver seed is at T. and Af 's. You h^ye i^ev^t ta^Ti\.\ow%d ^v^Va- 



ther ti\e chestnut gelding colt is yet lame or not. 1 i 
aeal, or lose to-morrow's mail. 
Good night. 


Dr. B. will get the plaster of Paris. 
I regret your solitude, but it will soon be broken in upl 
hy your old querulous friend. Matt B. 

^H Georgetown, Tuesdtii/, Feb. 11, 1817. 

^Bl. I scBiBBLED a few lines to you, my dear Theodore, on 

Saturday evening last, at which time I was labouring under 

the effects of fresh cold, taken in going to and coming from 

the House, where I delivered my valedictory. It was nearer 

being, than I then imagined, a valedictory to this world. 

That night, and the next day and night, I hung suspended 

between two worlds, and had a much nearer glimpse than I 

have ever yet taken of the other. In my agony, I thought 

repeatedly of your situation when I bled you. I am barely 

xble to write, to tell you, that if you have not sent off Spot 

and Roanoke, to detain them, unless you will use them your. 

^eJf, as I am doubtful whether I shall be able to travel by the 

,^D<i of the session. 

No farther news from H. T. Adieu! 


Jflow is the chestnut gelding, out of the blaze-faced S. C. 

S. C. 1 

i^BX'e? Take care of the newspapers; particularly the E. P. J 

*^era|d, and file them. ^^^M 




Georgetown^ FA. 16, 1817. 
Sunday ManmMg, 

eiief, written this day week, reached me jeitasM 
^ ihree of your last have arrived regrularly on th 
.>jiy morning after their date — a reformation inthepoir| 
sidi was more desired than expected. 
. almost envy you Orlando. I would^ if it were not Job' 
\y Hoole's translation; although, at the age of ten, I devooid 
.lUit more eagerly than gingerbread. Oh ! if Milton had tn» 
amJ ity he might tell of 

** All who, since, baptized or infidel 
Jousted in Aspromont or Montalbao, 
Damaaco, or Morocco, or Torbiaond; 
Or whom Bisserta sent from Afric shore. 
When Charlemagne, with all his peerage, fell 
By Fontarabia." 

Let me advise yoifto 

**CaIl up him, who left half told, 
The story of Cambuscan bold." 

I think you have never read Chaucer. Indeed, I have 

x>^mctimes blamed myself for not cultivating your imagiaa- 

iVHt» when you were young. It is a dangerous quality, faowe- 

.v^n lor the possessor. But if from my life were to-be taken 

•K i»l^usure derived from that faculty, very little would re- 

.v«.!i. Shakspeare, and Milton, and Chaucer, and Spenser, 

■ -v bMularch, and the Arabian Night's Entertainments, and 

V^ ^t>xutte, and Gil Bias, and Tom Jones, and Gulliver^ 

t ,- \v^Uiujion Crusoe, "and the tale of Troy divine, '* have 

4V\\ >i* ********* ^^*" ^^^^ ^^ ^y wordly enjoyment. To these 
j^^ V ^' ik\\\\vd Ovid's Metamorphoses, Ariosto, Dryden, 
VW^M<^\u ms\ Klutcher, Southern, Otway, Congreve, Pope's 
K ic ^ Wv^^aai Addison, Young, Thomson, Gay, Gold- 
s»n\iv Vi^^x, \VHi»H, Sheridan, Cowper, Byron, iEsop, La 
Ki.4U*i»HsN v4UUi*A<'l»ar'®s XII., Mahomed, and Zaire;) Rous- 



••:r cLii. 

. iv last Wmz ^jltAolx-. the 16ih" i 

. ^v spasms iha: threatened soor. 

v cares; although the two nights si:*.: 

>. entirely without sleep, I am m:::' 

^ :o be able to write, I asked Char'.:; 

J 10 vou forme. Be not alarmed at b 

..nodiate danger — that excepted in whi:: 

v.. J. a word about the weather in your las: 

..ivl, that you always would give me the 

. . vi .:'.g week. Yesterday afternoon, we had 

.. .ISO frost to thaw. The ice on the Potomac 

^. .i:'.d extends to its mouth. Chesapeake is 

V •I'.apolis. At Havre, the ice is yet thicker. 

^ '.i, opposite to New York, (its very mouth,) 

.^ .'.10 oooan brine, and the tides very rapid; 

: ^o as the current of our rivers in a flood. 

:oro raj)itl, is also frozen. It is nothing but 

... '.'.ut divides Long Island from New York 

..*.ii. I consider Friday and Saturday the 

. ' over felt. Thermometer at zero, and, in 

.. 'outs, 7^ below; at Boston, by the last ac- 

* '.ero. All the pheasants, partridges, &c., 

. ^o about the horses' arrival in Richmond. 
. » V ill, and I know not what to do. Adieu! 

.. . ^\, M. D. 

^ ,vveet-brier and swamp roses. 

^..^ 0, snows a little. Very sick; bled. 

,, i> 10> changeable; turns very cold after- 



—Feb., Tuesday 11, very cold. Had a grinder ex- 
Wednesday 13, bitter ctrfd; wind high al norlh- 

Thursday 13, colder still; wind very high at 

rFriday 14, coldest day ever felt; night intolera- 
Coldcst 48 ble; no lira, and no number of blankets will 
hours ever< keep me warm. 

felt. Saturday 15, as cold as yesterday; cloudy; 

L threatens snow. 
Sunday 16, very cold; cloudy; clear; cloudy; 
f.-j^ sleet, at night. 

^^H '_ Monday 17, sleet; very coTd; sunshine; cloudy; 

^^^ Tuesday 18, it has hardly frozen during the last 

Wm night; fog. 

^^; 1". M. N. has been very polite, and even kind to me. His 
deportment here is very unexceptionable. 

No farther news from H. T. P. says he has been bo 
butchered by the "doctors," that he can never have the use 
of his arm. 

I am taking the super carbonated natron — a fine prepa- 

Miiiniairy—^ohn Q. Adams, Secretary of State. 

Shelby, of Kentucky, Secretary of War. 
Crawford will remain in if he pleases. 
Crowninshield remains. 
6. W. Campbell goes to London. 

Gtorgttomt, FA. 33, 1^ 

Mr DEAR Theodore, 

YoTiR leUer of the nth reached ine y estenby n 
ingr aflcr the worst night that I have had since ray iadispoM* 
lion commenced. It was, I believe, a case of eroup, < 
binod with the affection of the liver aod the luoga. Nor vnt 
it unlike tetanus, since the muscles of the neck and baclc were 
rigid, and the jaw locked. I never expected, when Ibe 
clock Rtrucktwo, to hear the bell again; fortuoalely, as Ifoond 
myMlfgoing, I despatched a servant (about one} to the apothe- 
cary for an ounce of laudanum. Some of this poured doom 
tny tiiroat, through my teeth, restored me to something like 
life. 1 was ([uile delirious, but had method in my madness; 
for lliey lell me I ordered Juba to load my gun, and to shoot 
the first "doctor" that should enter the room; adding, they 
arc only mustard seed, and will serve just to sting him. Last 
night, I was again ver>' sick; but the anodyne relieved me. 
I am now persuaded that I might have saved myself a great 
deal of suffering by the moderate use of opium. This day 
week, when racked with cramp and spasms, my "doctors" 
(I had two) prescribed (or, rather, administered) half a glass 
of Madeira. Half a drop of rain water would have been as 
efficient On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I at- 
tended the House; brought out the first day by ihc explosion 
of the motion to repeal the internal taxes; and the following 
days, by some other circumstances that I will not now relate. 
Knocked up completely by the exertion. Instead of recalling 
my physicians, I took my own case boldly in hand ; took 1^ 

grains of calomcI~-on Thursday night, and yesterday, using 
mercurial friction. The liver is again performing its func- 

kini, and 1 am, this evening, decidedly better than I have 
pn since the first attack, which I may date from my fall at 
kf'^f OB Tuesday, the aiat ai JanuatY- EtoKilt».t.ijj»- 


riod, the operations of the liver have been irregular and dis- 
turbed. I conceive the lungs lo be afl'ected by sympathy, 
with the other viscus. I have taken from five 5 to 10 grains 
of the hyper carbonated natron, every day, most generally 5 
grains, in a table spoonful of new milk, sometimes repeating 
the dose at night: my drink has been slippery elm tea, and 
lemonade. Appetite for acids very strong. Severe painsin 
the fascifE of the legs and the tendons, just above the outer 
ankle bone; also, knees, &c. &c. 1 have taken from the first, 
a pill of 1^ grains of calomel, about two, sometimes three times 
a week; and several doses of Cheltenham salts. I have used 
the volatile liniment for my throat and limbs ; also, gargles of 
sage tea, borax, &c. 

Your letter is so ambiguously worded, that I know not 
vrhether you have received mine, countermanding the horses. 
I am a plain matter-of-fatt man, and bad rather read as many 
repetitions as are to be found in a bill in chancery, than beat 
a loss for the meaning. I keep no letter book, nor even 
memorandum. Several of my letters, it seems, have not come 
to hand ; but I cannot recollect their contents, by their dates: 
therefore, know not which have miscarried. 

Mrs. John M., Mrs. B., and Mrs. F. K., have been very 
kind, in sending me jellies, lemons, &c. &c. Thomas M, N. 
has been extremely attentive and obliging. Mr. K., of New 
York, Mr. Chief Justice, Mr. H., of Maryland, Mr. M., of 
South Carolina, Mr, B., of Georgetown, (I need not name P. 
K.) M. (no longer Abbt;) C. de S., and D., have been very 
kind in their attentions. Mr. M. sent me some old, choice 
Madeira, and his man cook to dress my rice ; (a mystery not 
understood any where on this side of Cape Fear river;) send- 
ing, also, the rice, to be dressed; and Mr. Chief Justice came 
to assist me in drawing up my will — which I had strangely 
and criminally neglected, for some time past, and of which 
neglect i was more strangely admonished in a dream. 

At any other lime, I should have regretted, very much, 
the ruin of my expected saddle-horse; at present, there is 
much prospect of my wanting him. Dwato Vw ivaS.'wMsa. 


luch, I 
1 not J 


talking to me of you and Roanoke ; both rider and hon»Ma 
to have made a strong impression on him. P., also, ipob 
of you. Had he known we lived together^ he would hm 
accompanied you to Roanoke. 

If this dose of egotism do not sicken you^ aloes will nol 
Farewell, and good night. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 


PmU ten, Sundoff, Feb. 2a 

Juba has been very ill. 

It is now hailing very fast Until this morning, it has bees 
warm since Monday. Thermometer here has been 6^ bdow 
zero of Fahrenheit; at Albany and Boston 14^ and 18^. Bol- 
ton harbour frozen up nine miles below the town, where its 
nothing but the great Atlantic — wagons and sleighs passio| 
over to Castle Island and Fort Independence. 

B. writes that the clover seed at T. and M's. ought to be 
in the ground. 

A letter from Dr. C, introducing Mr. James C. B., bb 
brother-in-law. (R. W. is here.) Also, a letter from good 
Dr. L. and H. T. He (H. T.) was in Philadelphia, on the 
16thy and intended to be here before the coronation. Arm 
bound to his hody. He has not been made acquainted with 
the fate of his arm, as his spirits were very low. He went 
with Ryland to see St. George, and was surprised to find hie 
madness of so bad a type. He tears every thing to tatters 
that he lays his hands on. He recognised his uncle, at once; 
but the moody expression of his countenance indicated, in 
Harry's opinion, incurable insanity. 

The doctors are killing poor G., ^^ secundum ariem.** 

Sunday Morning-^ Feb. 24. 

The last night " was winter in his roughest mood;'* — from 
a disagreeably warm day and evening, it turned to hail, sleet, 
and snow, about 9 o'clock, P. M. It is now (10 o'clock, P. 
M.) snowing very fast. The wind, which has blown a storm 



an gasts snd flaws all night, oontinuea very high: it has g9t 
round Irom north-east to north-west. 



>rcA4,lS17. ^H 

GeoTgetowTi, Tuetday, March 4. 
Mr DEAK Theodore, 

I WBOTB you a few lines on Sunday, directed to the 
care of R. G., Manchesler, with an earnest request to the 
post-o£Gce not to send it to Winchester. The post-master, 
(here,) a decent and attentive man, assured me that the mis- 
take did not originate with him; and I believe him. A tool 
of the under spur leathers here, it seems, is established at 
Alexandria, where the road "forks " to Winchester. 

Since my last, I am somewhat, but not much, better. I 
purpose taking up the line of march for Richmond, to-mor- 
row; wliere, perhaps, I shall arrive on the day that you 
ought to receive this letter; and I should like to meet Spot, 
to lake me through the sloughs, and over the ruts and gul- 
lies, between that place and Obslo. I shall go via FarmviHe 
and Prince Edward Court. 

The failure of wells, springs, Stc, are not peculiar to our 
country. It is general to the north; where Mr. K. tella me, 
welts, &C., have failed totally, that have yielded a copious 
supply of water, as far back as the memory of man can 

I write these few lines in case of accident to my last. I 
wish you could join me on the road* I shall stay but one 
day in Richmond. I hope you ordered Quashia to apply 
tot the clover seed and plaster of Paris. So not forget the 


Adieu! I look forward wilh joy to i 

AfiectloQBtel]', yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

y T. B. Dddliy, M. D. 


Richmond, Wednetdai/, March 12, IBl 
I HAVE no expectalion, my dear Theodore, that this will 
find you at home — but, as my last letter from Georgetown 
may have miscarried, although yours to me have arrived 
very regularly for ihe last four or five weeks, I write, in 
case of accidents, to apprize you ihat I have got thus far on 
my way home, and thai, (God willing,) I shall be at Prince 
Edward Court, on Monday nexL I had prepared to set out 
to-day, hut the weather deters me. It ia now snowing. 

No mitigation of my cruel symptoms took place until the 
third day of my journey, when I threw physio to the dogs; 
and, instead of opium, tincture of columbo, hypercarbonate 
of soda, &c. &c., I drank, in defiance of my physician's 
prescription, copiously of cold spring water, and ale plenti- 
fully of ice. Since that change of regimen, my strength has 
increased astonishingly; and I have even gained some Sesh, 
or rather skin. The first day, Wednesday the 5th, I could 
travel no farther than Alexandria. At Dumfries, where I 
lay, but slept not on Thursday night, I had nearly given up 
the ghost At a spring, five miles on this side, after crossing 

Kpawamsick, I took, upon an empty and sick stomach. 


which I have not tasted since. It was the first thing that I 
had taken into ray stomach since the first of February that 
did not produce nausea. It acted like a charm, and enabled 
me to get on to.B's. that night, where I procured ice. I 
also devoured with impunity a large pippin, (forbidden fruit 
to me.) Next day I got to the Oaks, forty-two miles. Here 
I was more unwell than the night before. On Sunday morn- 
ing, I reached my friends, Messrs. A. & Co., to breakfast 
at half past eight. 

Old Dr. F., whom I saw in Frederickburg, while roy 
horses were baiting, begged to be most particularly remem- 
bered to you. The old man spoke of you with a warmth 
of approbation that highly gratified me. Mr. W, made the 
most afibctionate inquiries after you. He knew, he said, my 
complaint and constitution, having been a martyr to it (dys- 
pepsia) himself, but now cured. He begged me to consider 
water as poison to me. 

Mr. and Mrs. C, Dr. and Mrs. B., and Mrs. B., with 
whom I spent the morning, yesterday, made friendly in- 
quiries about you. So did Mrs, W., who is, *'as ladies like 
to be, who love their lords;" and will present him in a vai 
short time with a chopping boy or girl, perhaps both. 

Adieu, my dear Theodore. 

Your aHbctionate friend and kinsman, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanok* 


Richmond, Thurtdag, March 13, 181 
Vou will not be surprised at this date, my dear TheodcA 
when you call to mind what a day yesterday was; and this, 
too, IB rainy and gloomy. 1 was ips,c,V;.«^ Iw to-j \'a'«\«.'j % 


and iDtended to have breakfasted this morning at Clay HiB, 

or Obslo; but the weather obliges me to keep in port 

I belieTe that I forgot to tell you that the famous frigile^ 

Paragon, (a thirty-two^) struck her colours^ on Tuesday en- 

Dingy to the General S. 

• • • • • * 

Do not let Quashia forget to call at T. and M's., aDdt0 
bring up the box containing nny saddle, Scc.y ^irhieh I ordeni 
bim to carry back last year; but he neglected it: the cooib- 
quence is, the bits and stimip irons are terribly rusted. 

The boots were so carelessly packed, (Uie top of one be- 
ing only half covered with paper,} that tlie bees-waz lal 
tallow, with which they were dressed, has ruined tbem. Tla 
breeches were but half wrapped up in the towel^ but thej 
have sustained little damage. 

I mean to plaster the whole of the pasture field of con, 
and all my tobacco and clover. 

There is little chance that this letter will reach you; bat 
the trouble of writing is not great — rather a pleasure, to 
those we love. I dined yesterday with M., who lives but a 
square off. R. K. J. was there, and my host, Mr. C. He 
did very well for him. Kitty H. is married to Archy R, 
who has bought Curies for iS50,000. I hope to shoot snipes 
with you very soon, if you have any Pigou & Andrews^ 
and shot Adieu. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Henry C. inquires particularly after you. His winter iff 
Richmond has visibly improved him, without injuring the 
frankness of his manners. He returns to Charlotte in April 
or May. 



, Saturday, April, 12, 1817-1 

I HOPE, my dear Theodore, that you will not, on my se- 
count, encounter the fatigue of a ride to Prince Edward 
Court At the moment when you mentioned your intention 
of meeting me there, your malady did not occur to me. I 
can, without material inconvenience, return home about the 
last of next week, or the beginning of the succeeding one; 
and we can go together to Dr. R's., if you are not too much 
indisposed to lake the journey ; he expects us both, I know. 
Yours, truly, 

I JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

. Blahd Dt:DLET, M. D. 


Bank of Virginia, April 29, 181( 
Dbak Theodore, 

After old Quaahia was gone, it occurred to me tfitl 
there might be aome articles in the first memorandum that 
were omitted in the second. On comparing them, I find 
two of this description: the camphorated tincture of opium, 
and compound tincture of rhubarb; both of which I have 
ordered, and will bring with me: also, the tincture of aloes, 
which, although contained in both lists, the apothecary could 
not procure. As I frequently heard you express a want 
this medicine in your own case, I have spurred up the 

It of I 
lean J 

r n\ rtnifc*, atui the fDmr jxle bsi al Isat 
i'tiis. nbo. I will fariap with me. 
I il.msl wiiti M. Ht> Mtcr a an ial^lig(4 
taArrifil, Scoich Usste, wilfa •• mock of the uccat 
una of " The Aiu bjimt^ ," ftc, eonU desire. I 
1 nnr rvt-nin^ u Mr. B*s., and a cfaaraiii^ oneft 
|)i^Ibi I dlnr thrm. 

1 hiu< rloartl n>v Irtter. bv Qtaafaia, 1 scot soDAy 
lariirloi.. nmnne them. Mr. C'c pictnre — tiro packagV 
^nrioljili-^ i-ifi Hkin— the hutdle of mj old castoi^ 
t (itlwii maltenk wb>eb my bills will show. 
LatT Ttvp'i-rtl rnur ptetur^-frsnte bvm Dr. G, with ■ 
ttan «t li>,-h 1 hnpc will read) home Tubroketi. I ian, 
wnKoT fxMure of Frank, and a better likeliest Ihio 
>4>i vri lint net pwd n^ ii"s. If 1 do not hear from 
Morron '*■ ,ralher m-ntghL's) Diail. I shall be distp- 

^VM. yiuirs, 

JOHN R-WPOLPH.of Roanoke. 



August, 181i, 
I CONSIDER myself under obligations lo you that I can ne- 
ver repay. I have considered you as a blessing' sent to me 
by Providence, in my old age, lo repay the desertion of my 
other friends and nearer connexions. It is in your power 
(if you please) to repay me all the debt of gratitude that you 
insist upon being due to me; although I consider myself, in 
a pecuniary point of view, largely a gainer by our connexion. 
But, if you are unwilling to do so, 1 must be content to give 
up my last slay upon earth; for I shall, in that case, send the 

• This letter wis written during a lucid interval of idietiation of mind; 
which, for the first time, VDOunteil to positive deliriiun. Fits of caprice 
and petulance, following days of tlie deepest gloom, hud, for years previoui- 
ly, overaliadowedliis mind, evincing the existence of Bonte corrodju^f uk, 
for wluch he neither sought, nor would receive, any sympathy. 

For many weeks, liis conduct towards myself, wlio was Ihe only Inmale 
of his household, had been marked by contumelious indjgmties, which it re- 
quired almost heroic pstienco to endure; even when aided by a warm and 
affectionate devotion, and an anxious wish to alleviate tlie agonies of wch a 
mind in ruins. All hope of attaining this end, finally failed; and, when he 
found that I would no long^erremiun with liim, the above letter was written ; 
it is almost needless to say, with wliat effect. I remained with him two yean 

The truth and beauty of the eastern allegory, of the mm endowed with 
two souls, was never more forcibly exemplified than in his case. In his dark 
days, when the evU genius predominated, the austere vindictiveness of hii 
feelings towards those that a distempered fancy depicted as enemies, or ai 
delinquent in truth or honour, was horribly severe and remorseless. 

Under such circumstances of menial alienation, 1 sincerely believe, (If it 
mav not appear irreverent,] that had our blessed Saviour, accompanied by 
hit Holy Mother, condescended to become again incarnate, revisited the 
earth, and been domiciliated with him one week, be would have in 
the former a rogue, and the latter no bettter than she should be. 

On the contiary, when Ihe benevolent genius had the ascendant, 
ever knew better how to feel and express the tenderest kindness, or 
wnce, in countenance and manner, Rentier bwiCTotetw^e t>? \i».ft- 

d the 

gined J 


boyi to their pirealt. Without you I eaaaot liveb 
and will not WhU it ta thai liu occasJoneil the ehi 
your imnner towards toe, I am unabla to diseorer. 
aacribed it to the diaeaK ' by which you are i 
which aSecU the mind and temper, as well as the aaini 
culties. In your prtndplea I have as unbounded coofif 
u I have in those of any man on earth. Your disiatereat 
cdnew, integrity, and truth, would extort my esteem and re- 
spect, even if I were disposed to withhold them. I Ion 
you as my own son; would to God you were, I see, I thinit, 
into your heart: mine is open before you, if you will look 
into it Nothing could ever eradicate this afiection, « 
surpasses tliat of any other person (as I believe) on fl 
Your parents have other children: I have only you. 
■ce you wearing out your lime, and wasting away, in ihH 
sert, where you have no society such as your lime of life, ha- 
bits, and taste require. I have looked at you often, engaged 
in contributing to my advantage and comfort, with tears ift 
my eyes, and thought I was selfish and cruel in sacriGciag 
you to my interest. I am going from home: will you take 
care of my affairs until I return'' — I ask it as a favour. It 
is possible that we may not meet again; but, if I get more 
seriously sick at the springs than I am now, I will aend for 
you, unless you will go with me to the Wliite Sulphur 
Springs. Wherever 1 am, my heart will love you as loug as 
it beats. Prom your boyhood ] have not been lavish of re- 
proof upon you. Recollect my past life. 


ill look 

hfoasibly, liypochomJriiisis. 



VXatkington, Dec. 17, 1819. 
Mr SEAB. Theodore, 

Os my return from BaUimore, the day before yester- 
day, I was greeted by your letter of the 5th, Its subject is 
too interesting to be treated as it deserves; or, indeed, at all 
in the hurry of Johnny's departure. You *. ill agree in the 
necessity of this slep^ when 1 tell you that I reached George- 
town, in the boal, on Tuesday night — the boys the evening 
afterwards, with tJie servants. On Friday mornlDg, the boys 
and myself went to BaUimore in the stage; whence Ire- 
Uirned, on Thursday, to dinner. 

To hear of your happiness gives me as great pleasure as 
at this time I am capable of enjoying. Remember me, 
kindly, to our neighbours; particularly to Colonel M. and 
Mr. W. 

I shall write, fully, by next post; which will reach ] 
soon after Johnny's arrival, if not before. 
Yours, ever, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanokt 


Waihiitgton. Dec. 19. 1S1^| 
Mv DEAR Theodore, 

At length I have obtained a respite from the clot 
of petitioners, applicants, pamphleteers, and projectors t] 
beset one, at the commencement, especially, of a s 
Congress; and sit down to converse wUh you ci\i.\.t«.« 



• • .»• 


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modale itself to mutual and incurable infirmilies. To hu 
of your happiness, next to seeing it, will give me as tnucli 
pleasure as I am now capable of feeling. My apathy is not 
natural, but super i net uced. There was a volcano under nny 
ice, but it is burnt out, and "a face of desolation has come 
on, not to be rectified in ages," could my life be prolonged 
to patriarchal longevity. The necessity of "loving, and 
being beloved," was never felt by the imaginary beings of 
Rousseau and Byron's creation more imperiously than by 
myself. My heart was offered up with a devotion that knew 
no reserve- Long an object of proscription and treachery, 
I have at last (more mortifying to the pride of man) become 
one of utler indifference. But these are the chastcnings of 
a tender Father, desirous to reclaim his lost and undone child 
from the error of his ways, and who has " humbled my weak 
unthinking pride herieath the dispensations of a mysterious 
wisdom." To that wisdom, I bow with implicit and awful 
submission; too happy, if I had not dally, and hourly cause 
to upbraid myself with the vilest ingratitude and disobe- 
dience to my heavenly Corrector and Benefactor. 

I wish I may have made myself entirely intelligible. If 
I should have conveyed to your mind any impression that I 
did not intend to make, I shall deplore it as the result of the 
imperfection of language, as well as of my own incapacitj 

The hoya left Baltimore on Friday, for their grandfathf 
■ Tom had a hearty cry. Randolph, from the presence of N 
merous spectators, was barely able to suppress his tears, and 
I was no better off. How is C? 

May every blessing attend you here and hereafter! Na( 
I sign myself, 

Your friend, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke^ 


)irect to Washington. 


WaahingloTi, Dee. 21, 1819. 

r DEAR Theodore, 

I WROTE you a very long lelter the day before yes- 
terday, which, at one time, I had thoughts of suppressing; 
xnd, perhaps, had better have suppressed. My error in this 
case has not been intenlional. My judgment, as well as my 
other faculties, has become much impaired; so much so, that 
I can scarcely turn me in any direction, without a dread of 
committing some wrong. My letter from Richmond has, 
probably, never come to hand. 1 would be glad to hear some- 
thing of my aOairsat home; although I left it without a desire 
ever to see it again. For Uie first lime in my life, a vague 
idea of quitting it for ever floated through my mind — one 
that my engagements will, probably, forbid me to execute. 
I would not leave it dishonourably. 

Here I find myself t^o/f, almost as entirely as at Roanoke — 
for the quiet of which (the last paragraph to the contrary, not- 
withstanding,} 1 have some times panted; or, rather, to escape 
from the scene around me. Once the object of proscription, 
1 am become one of indifference to all arouud me; and, in this 
respect, I am, in no wise, worse off than the rest — for, from 
all that I can sec and learn, there are no two persons here 
that care a single straw for one another. My reception is 
best by the old Jacobins enrages — next, by the federalists, 
who have abjured their heresies, and reconciled themselves 
to the true Catholic church — worst of all, by the old minori- 
ty men, white-washed into courtiers. 

My harness I wish altered in the traces, so as to fit the 
chair at B's. in Richmond. The bay colt, out of Brunette, 
1 intend for a chair horse; the gray and the chestnut mare for 
Q)e saddle. 

I sbsU send you my letters, which you will read, except 
e marked " private. " You will find in the papers much 


amusement, and some instruction. Adieu! That the detf-^ 
eat wishes of your heart may be gratified, ia my earnest prayer. 
T. B. Dudley. 

P. S.— Lord Byroniaindisputably the author of Don Juan. 
Murray, of Albemarle street, (his publisher,) remonstrated 
against printing it. His lordship wrote him, for answer, 
" that, if he refused, he should never publish for him again; 
that the Reviewers, &c., had set him upon the ptnoacle of 

fame, and that by , they should now read, not what 

they liked, but what he pleased." I see a writer in the En- 
quirer denies it to be his production. The above I have from 
the most authentic source. 



Wa^ington, January 21, 18S 


Oh my return home last night, after dining abroad, I found 
the enclosed note. Gen. S.-is in earnest, in his civilities to 
you. He expressed in his countenance, as well as in his lan- 
guage, the greatest mortification at your sudden departure. 

To-day we hear Mr. Pinkney without fail. He announced 
it himself, yesterday, on moving the adjournment. Of course, 
he has the floor as soon as the question comes up, and the 
house will be crowded to suSbcatioo. I go to Aear; and 
shall maintain my seat against the combined forces of the la- 
dies, who entre nous have no business in legislative halls, or 
courts of justice. Mad, Roland might have saved her pretty 
head from ihegailanl Frenchmen, if she had not put on 
breeches, (or, rather, put them off, ) and turned sana cutaU<a. 

.... ». . 
iretty I 
>a ths J 



I sgree enlirf ly with Mad. de Stael, that the liberty which 
women enjoy in France, is only the effect of the indiffereDce 
of Ihe men; and a cause of it too — as, she says, the Turk, 
who locks up bis wife, shows, at least, that he puts some va- 
lue upon her. Soaoon as the sex, leaving her own peculiar 
province, encroaches upon that of man, alt her privileges are 
put in jeopardy. 

By this time, I suppose, you are in Richmond; and, on the 
whole, you have had very good weather for your journey. 
Let me know all about it I sometimes hear of Harry T., 
through his correspondents, Messrs. C, &c. To me he ne- 
ver writes — nor does L. 

Remember me to the Doctor and Mrs. B. in the most af- 
fectionate terms. I shall write, until Monday, to Richmond. 
Let me know of your movements, I heard, yesterday, from 
Barksdale, Do not forget my best remembrance to all at 
Obslo and Clay hill. 

Yours, truly, 


tl'. B. DUQLEV. 




I AM blind, and almost dead. The vertiginous affec- 
tion of my head, arises from, but is not caused by, an indis- 
tinct vision — the effect of which is indescribable. It obliged 
tne to give up, yesterday, one of the best arguments that I 
ever conceived, but of which I was delivered by forceps; or, 
rather by Caesarean opecation. The after-birth is yet behind. 
Your letters from Bucks and Obslo are received. Do not 



expect to hear from me aa heretofore, for the reason above; 
but remember my anxiety unlU C. is removed, unleaa it be 
indispensable to relain him. 

Take lodgiogB in Richmond, and we will settle the other 
point at our leisure. 

Essex and Hetty? Pheasants, &c. ? 

I Years, ever, 

Ds. DnoLs;. 

Saturday, Feb. 5, 1630. 
Dear Theodore, 

You will have received my scarcely legible letters. I 
hope yoa will remove to Richmond forlhwlth. Have the 
goodness to explain what you meant by having seen my note 
upon note. I hope none of the earwigs and utterera of false 
news have attempted to hurt me, with my youog friend 
Henry C, or his nephew. 

G-. T. applied to me to know whether it was true, as his 
wife was told in Richmond, that I had written to R. ! ! ! . 
abusing ^m, (G. T.,) as the author of "The Fudge Fami- 
ly." I told Mr. T., very serenely, that although I might 
plead to the jurisdiction of the court, (his wife not giving up 
the author of this story which came "so directly" to her;) 
yet, as I was not disposed to be exigeant, I referred him to 
Mr. R., and could give him written authority and request to 
show any thing he might have in my writing. I also cau- 
tioned him against a similar application to me in future, as I 
should meet it with a flat refusal. 

When you get married, as I hope and trust you will, I 
shall drop our correspondence, so fat M vV « css&i^'eii'i. 


Burn thii and all others ai faat as you receive them. Thi 
wretches here, not content to make me answerable for whit 
I do sayi get bastard wit, in order to lay it at my door. 



A letter from Colonel M. has relieved me for the present, 
on the subject of C. 


Washington, Feb. 7, 1820. 

Dear Theodore, 

I wrote you, a few days ago^ perhaps the last letter 
that you will ever receive in my handwriting; for it has 
pleased Him who gave me sight, to take it away almost en- 
tirely. I must endeavour to be thankful for the little that 
is left me of this blessing, as well as for other innumerable 
and greater blessings. The state of the roads is such, that 
I anticipate the mail by a day, for fear of miscarriage, in re- 
questing that my horses and Johnny may be ready to set 
out at a moment's warning, I mean Roanoke, as well as the 
carriage horses. About this time, I suppose, they are just 
off a hard journey. Tell Johnny that I expect to find them 
in high condition, and shall take no apologies, by condition 
he knows that I do not understand fatness, but grooming. 1 
have no opinion of stalled beeves making good draft cattle. 
Have the goodness to get Clay equipped for coming on with 
Johnny; I shall probably send or carry him to Philadelphia. 
You may imagine how anxious I am to hear from you, and 
the topics about which I feel so much interest; take them in 
the following order: — 

YouV own affair — Ca< — CI. — Plantation affairs, generally — 



Essex and Hetty — Nancy, &c, — Pheasants Partridges — 

Summer ducks — fruit trees — Sir Archy Colt and Phillis — 
blood Block, generally — tobacco. — Look at this letter when 
you write yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



I wrote you some days ago that I had received Colonel' 
M'a. letter: thank htm for it in my name, and remember 
me to him and all our neighbours; if, indeed, we may be 
aaid to have any — I mean W., CI,, Co. S., &c. 





Feb. 8, 1820. 
I WROTE you yesterday about my horses. As the south- 
;e?n mail has failed this morning, I wrote again to lake two 
chances. I want the horses put in the highest condition; by 
which Johnny will understand not fatness so much as groom- 
ing. The carriage htwses and Roanoke to be ready to set 
out at a minute's warning. C's, shirts to be made, and he 
equipped for a journey. Tell Tom M. to get the tobacco 
down as soon as possible. 

Return me, under cover, the numbers of the Ploughboy 
that I sent you. You have, I fear, received the last letter 
in my handwriting. Remember me to Colonel RI. and all 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 


leths CLX-Viii. 

Its fiDDScquouoc of tbe fluvw 
Mil. did not arrive is time liar me loflHPBBr.i: 
hmU. Tfasi of lieoember 27tfa iw kin ^SKiMrianste 
• iwink. dntiQc whicb it ww nij BoattBn miKiiM tgndi 
"^J u m m nmt L .^ Bui the «tate of n^ 
tisi A fafr midafaW* undertskinK. 
IT. B ifltBBr JboBD Dx. S^ wliiidiy jbwt'Jmi imj Ittpit 2ii^ 
1 v*ili trr and Ibmk iiiiD far liKday. 

1 am ant fhttfrmmBri wbst I ifadi do ^irflfc aqpffaf tk 
fllnv hT llv KHum, imr about Biy ^luQg ^^Ib^ 9tntBf, tfet 

JEBflBBBdaniK lUnBaHUBB flf 2DT flHB. 

am: dx* uc mwniiini "wiie&Br jnin laivt^ issanBt "Ait 3iis 
imK TtwuiiiLii- If vDh. hevcu and an oeoaaum wKww^ I ^iA 
Tut wnuiL lel r for wbac ii wHI faring. TnL ool msni iir 

JIT ounuuDCT fmx: bk. 




Srirtninii' m id Gcuhns. 'Rnriintr^ liPigh Ak. itu. 



Wcahinglon, Feb. E 


Dear Theodore, 

YoDR letter came to hand the evening before last, and 
I was very desirous of acknowledging its receipt yesterday, 
but was incapable, from a severe catarrhal afieclion that has 
confined me to my room for the last six days, attended by 
pains in the back, fiic^ which hardly permitted me to remain 
a minute in one posture, I write, now, only to do away 
your uneasiness. I am sensibly better this morning; hut my 
lungs and eyes are yet greatly affected. I have been obliged 
to omit attending to several letters on business; also, several 
from Joseph C. and his brother — who inquire kindly after 

Remember me to such as care to ask about me, and e 
these few lines, for I am in no condition to write. 



JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke i 


WaMnglon, Feb. 17, 183L. i 
Dear Theodore, 

Yooa letter was received too late, yesterday, to m 
knowledge it by return of mail, and this morning, by n 
o'clock, I had to attend the committee on poor Burweil'sfi 
neral, which left me not a moment's time to spare. 

^ C, wto kM In* kn aha« a week. >i« MV ^ri 

EBB. "- -T^ rr IT— *--•*- '-Tn M (rrw qaim^ 
■ton-) 11 dad, m4 tiMl Dr. V. nd hit tapMbcr Snud at 
ted, Ibe foraMT to • wmIow D^ U LfocbbaT^ mJ te 
to a Mi« H., (rf Ledactoo. Dr. B. T. u bcf^ »1 

^-^ — ' — ■--[■-- ■"*— ' ■ "'iiliin 

!i^ ■ a iiitan tboMiv of pfMtioR. 
danvTaarbataaadkafiibfeelor Miria G^ Ont wat 
Mrm. B, if the y nw e y l «f (he niaeici] La's, did aat 
Mlbcrof MMyAna^rtthettoe >£«. Mjr boi r- 
I to her. I re^ct to bear of F^i. ni health; batlstune- 
1 ihiak die waj have a hqifny iw ijii Umn bd indiSe- 
»' wortbfeaf hiubud, end IhecBta and pdna of a faraily^. 
my beat lorve to her and £. 



Sunday Morning. 

I Ait much gratiiiGd by your letter of Friday, which I 
have just received. The eportiog iutelligence is quite ac- 
ceptable. I take great interest, even now, Jn the subject. 
Last autumn I enjoyed myself, on several occasions, shoot- 
ing both woq^cocka and partridges. By "John Sim," of 
Hanover, I suppose you mean a son of Nicholas St/me, an 
old fellow sportsman of mine. There is one of your good 
shots, {1 need not name him,) with whom I hope you do not 
associate. "Tell me your company," &c. I have no doubt 
that you had better go out with C, once a week, than have 
a certain description of persons haunt your chambers. I 
learn, for the first time, that John has left Cambridge. Re- 
member me to the whole firm — Mrs. A. Si. Co., and tell Act- 
that, when 1 find I am about to die, I mean to be carried, if 
practicable, to her house to be nursed. 

You mention nothing of Leigh. Has William been to see 
his brother? Do you hear from Amelia? Below you have 
a draft, on Johnson's house, for three hundred dollars. God 
speed you! The air of abruptness in this letter, is occasioned 
by my wish not to postpone a reply until to-morrow, and the 
mail is in the future in rus, as old Lilly hath it. 

Dr. B. can, and will, show you a scratch from me of this . 
day's dale. Write about every thing and every body, i 
seal with wax. 

i Sincerely, yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Dr. Dudlev. 

Remember me to all friends. 




HUUi^tem .F^ 26, 18ZL 

Yovm letter found me, ti usual, in bed. Torterday, I m 
very <me eebly surpriaed by one from R C. It is not aj 
findt tbal my aister'a children bare been faroag^t up atni- 
gera to me. I had the truest regprd for their mother^ mi 
hafe omitted no opportunity that has been allured me teed* 
tifate their acquaintance, and attach them to me. Ymimj 
nothing of Pa. health. Who is the Mr. B., EL R. tab- 
ly. married? Is it poor H's. son*inJaw? I am gprieved kt 
the condition of his family: I mean H'a. They hare besa 
used to affluence and ease. What a reverse f waitstheml <^' 
^ Yesterday, I got a letter from Mrs. B., which gives m 
Tory gratifying accounts of the boys. She also !mmtwi* 
Tom L's. improved health. Let Watkins L. know this. I 
wrote, yesterday, in reply to E's. letter; but when yoo 
see her or Fanny, give my love to them both. I have not 
heard a syllable of SL George since he left Richmond. . I sm 
impatient to get away from this sink of iniquity and coirap- 
tion. Remember me to all friends — ^the C's., (I am truly a)^ 
ry to hear of Richard's situation,) Br., Be., L., Ba, 6., T. 
M., R., and R. M. God bless you. 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Mr. T. B. DuDLSY. 



Roanoke, June 10, 1821. 

I AM concerned to perceive, from your letter of the 4th, 
which I have just now received, that your change of residence 
has not been attended by the consequences which were na- 
turally to have been especled from il. It is, however, proba- 
ble enough that you wrote under the influence of a temporary 
depression of spirits, which surrounding circumstances will 
soon dispel, if it be not already dissipated. You do not over- 
rate the solitariness of the life I lead here. It is dreary beyond 
conception, escept by the actual sufferer, I can only acqui- 
esce in it, as the lot in which I have been cast by the good 
providence of God; and endeavour to bear it, and the daily 
increasing infirmities, which threaten total helplessness, as 
well as I may. "Many long weeks have passed since you 
heard from me:" And why should I write? To say that I 
had made another notch in my tally? — or to enter upon the 
monotonous list of grievances, menial and bodily, which ego- 
tism itself could scarcely bear to relate, and none other to lis- 
ten to. You say truly: "there is no substitute" for what 
you name, "that can fdl the heart." The bitter conviction 
has long ago rushed upon my own, and arrested its functions. 
Not that it is without its paroxysms, which, I thank Heaven, 
itself, alone, is conscious of. Perhaps I am wrong to indulge 
in this vein; but I must write thus, or not atall. No punish- 
ment, except remorse, can exceed the misery I feel. My 
heart swells to bursting, at past recollections; and, as the pre- 
sent is without enjoyment, so is the future without hope; so 
far, at least, as respects this world. 

I found the horse here when I got home, and was told Mr. 
Sim's wagonner left him. I sincerely wish that you would 
cultivate a more cheerful temper of mind than you appear to 
possess, or than this eSusion, of one worn down by disappoint- 

jyi urnsu OP 

nmtiy and diaaase, and premature old age, is calculated toil* 

q>ire. * 

May God, in hia mercy, protect and bless yoo; and bm} 
yo« never experience the forlorn and desolate senaatiou i 
him who has endeavoured, with whatever success, to praie 
your friend* 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of ftoanofa. 

Db« DnnuiT. 

I wrote the above yesterday. Perhaps you may 
If loo, have acquired the << knack of writing letters, and ptf 
tihg nothing into them;'' bot, really, I have nothing to pL 
in. You say nothing of Dr^ and Mra. R, of L., the (\ 
Mrs. B., G. or R.; not to mention my nieces. 

The true cure for maladies like yoiirs, is employmMt 
<<Be not solitary; be not idle!" wa^all that Burton could lA- 
yise. Rely upon it, life was not given us to be qpent io 
dreams and reverie, but for active, useful exertion; exertioD 
that turns to some account to ourselves, or to others — noth- 
borious idleness. (I say nothing of religion, which is between 
the heart and its Creator.) This preaching is, I know, foolish 
enough: but let it pass. We have all two educations; one we 
have given to us — the other we give ourselves; and, after i 
certain time of life, when the character has taken its ply^ it 
is idle to attempt to change it 

If I did not think that it would aggravate your symptoma, 
I would press you to come here. In the sedulous study and 
practice of your profession, I hope you will find a palliative, 
if not a complete cure, of your moral disease. Yours is the 
age of exertion — the prime and vigour of life. But I have 
^^ fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: and that which should 
accompany old age, as honour, love, obedience, troops of 
friends,* I must not look to have; but, in their stead, ,^^ 

You say my friends in Richmond would, no doubt, be glad 


•« J5<«r<m— What need me^'* 



I saw his lately married daughter. The very thought of 
meeting with any person who cares a straw for my existence, 
tightens my chest and swells my throat. It gives me some- 
what the same sensation that I felt after poor Randolph's 
death, the first lime 1 took the road to Obslo, below B's, If 
I did not fear tiring out the welcome of my friends, I would 
go to Amelia for a week or ten days: and yet the return 
would be but so much the more bilter. Use reconciles mo 
to it a little; but the first few days after I get home, are al- 
most intolerable. God's will be done! — This is a better re- 
liance, believe me, than " submiasion to the power of desii- 
ny," of which you speak. 

I have seen W. M. W., once, by accident, on the road: ra- 
ther, I rode as far as his lane, and met him. Asked him to 
dine with me; but Mrs. W. was in daily expectation of the 
sage femme, and he was obliged to watch the Incubation. 

If ever I get as far as Richmond, I shall accept your offer 
of a bed. Did you get the gun-locks? They were left at 
Mrs. K'a. for you, on the parlour table. About this time, 
you have, probably, seen P. R. He was to go to Richmond 
on Tuesday last. He and Mr. B. spent the day after Char- 
lotte Court, here. He is always in such a hurry, and so 
much engaged, that I am deterred from visiting him as often 
U I otherwise should do. This letter is written with a pen 
of your own making, that has not been mended, and has 
done all my writing for nine months; besides, a good deal 
W. L. 
< J pray God to keep and bless you. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke, i 

De. Dudley. 

My best regards to Dr. and Mrs. B. I heard to-day fro 
C: he is well — at school on Elk Ridge. 

You will be glad to hear that John M. is doing well. 
hu called once, on his way to Halifax, Ct., and 1 slightly % 
^Hl^ed him to-day^ but he has not come. 

iXTTus or 

GoIomI a wii boe jt^baiMj. I w iilH k» will 
is hit bent to give ImMhirds of its vakie tar &o fBBji 
!«; I hcfe flnde him an offer, and he 
CBtifidgr of it. This sale will reUere mjr 
ficahies. It is troe that it will injiire the Tnloe of ttiii 
which is alieady scant of 




As my wagon goes to-day to Petersburg, I nyail myad 
of it to thank you for your letter of the 6th, if, indeed, thii 
old pen, made and mended to a stamp by yourself, will ena- 
ble me to do it. 

I am well aware (and hare long been so) of the character 
of the people you guard me against. Odious as it is, I think 
it differs somewhat to its advantage from that of the idle and 
improvident, which is equally dishonest and more contemp- 
tible. Whatever advantage these people gain over me, it is 
with my eyes open; for I know that to deal with them si 
all, is to suffer imposition. But I have no motive to husband 
my resources. If I leave enough to pay my debts, I am sa- 
tisfied. Here I am yearning after the society of some one 
who is not merely indifferent to me, and condemned, day af- 
ter day, to a solitude like Robinson Crusoe's. But each day 
brings my captivity and exile nearer to their end. 

Rely upon it, you are entirely mistaken in your estimate 
of the world. Bad as it is, mankind are not quite so silly 
as you suppose. Look around you, and see who are held in 


* tiie highest ealeera. I will name but one — Mr. Chief Ju§- 
-1 tice. It is not Ihe "rogue" who gains the good opinion of 
'» his own sex, or of the other. It is the man, who by the ex- 
■i erciae of the faculties which nature and education hiive given 
a bim, asserts his place among his fellows; and, whilst useful 
£^ to all around him, establishes his claim to their respect, as 
an equal and independent member of society. He may 
have every other good quality under heaven; but, wanting 
Ibis, a man becomes an object of pity to the good, and of 
contempt to the vile. Look at Mr. Leigh, his brother Wil- 
liam, Mr. Wickham, Dr. B., &c. &c., and compare them 
Tvith the drones which society is impatient to shake from 
its lap. 

Mr. Macon and Mr. Edwards were with me four days 
last week: they left me this day week. Sam waits. Farei- 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



Roanoke, Aug. 5, I8ZI. 
I SHOULB not be able to summon spirits to reply to your 
letter, were it not for a remark it contains on Mr. M., which 
1 believe to be unjust, as it obviously is most inji]riou9 to his 
character. Indeed, I think a very little reflection on that of 
General E., (from your own description of it,) might induce 
you to ascribe his conduct to some other cause than the in- 
stigation of a man of the highest probity, and one, too, who 
has shown as great a disregard for money as ia consistent 
with honesty and independence. That he wrote the wUl.,ia 
no proof [not even presumptive^ thaV ^e e"twXs& w iwnKeir 
^ 29 "^" 


lipirit of unforgireness Id the lesUlor lowtrds an abtuA 
an act worihy of a demoo, Mr. L. wrote Mrs. R'l 
I but it is bj- no means wich s will as he woald hare ad- 
Would it be right in me to ascribe the tenor of the 

lo him? 
Lsppen to know more about Mr. M's. sentiments, In re- 
to the unhappy fcads in that family, than yoa probs- 
n do, and from the most direct source. I believe I 
d something of this to you once before; and I hare no 
Ltion in pronouncing that you have been misled into i 
T that docs injury to him. Of the other gentleman I 
f nothing, at least, in relation to that afiair, and can, 
say nolhing. 

arning's mail brings the news of little Bathurst 
plph's death. Harriet died three weeks before him! 
ation of the childless mother is, I fear, one that 
:nder death desirable, even in the opinion of her 

3 you. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 


this money, which I would put under this carer, if I 
sot too much esperieoce of the mail. 

My heahh is aa deplorably bad as it ever waa, except |] 
spring of 1817. I have crawled out in consequence of the 
M question, but am incapable, as well as unwilling, 

to take a part in it I am glad to hear that you spend your 
time so agreeably. Mine is spent in uninlermitling misery. 

When you see Dr. or Mrs. B., present me to them in the 
most friendly terms; also F. G., L., the C's., Mrs. B, and 
Mrs. R. 

Tell Dr. B. that I received his letter this morning, aad 
will thank him for it when I have strength to do so. If I 
survive this session, I will embark in March for some better 
climate: mean while, my aSairs at home go to absolute ruin. 
I shall leave a power with Mr. L. of Halifax (o sell all I 
have — indeed, he has one unrevoked, but while I am in the 
country, he declines acting on it. God bless you. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



W<uhi»gcon, Dee. 14, IS9a | 
1 HAVE just received your letter of the ISth: with v 
sensations I read it, you can judge better than I can describe! ^ 
J hope you will not leave Virginia; and above all, for a cli- 
mate the moat noxious to your particular habil. My heart 
gushee over towards you. To establish yourself in your 

u letter is iui answer (□ one from me. communiciting' my intention of 
« »oy»ge to tiie Ewrt Indies, «nd wm the CBtue of my saving up It 

Lrmss OF 

noD, where you sre, rvquim oely • Cnle tiae ^i'ffr 

You an fumModed bj mpecUble pmi«a, ta whia 

e known, and hy whom you are rafnOed; wilh whMi 

D asaociate on tenoB of eqoaJiIy aad fnedom. Tha 

^t »dr)niage — not lo be pveo op but upon the noN 

il coniidenttoDB. The cloud ihat oTertangs RiehoKwd 

Ipaaa away: ii)«aD while, consider ne yoar banker; lai 

r pride revolt at tbe obligalion, I will cooscat to Tfr 

t out of the first fruits of your praetke. But it 

. not BO to revolt, because it will wouod tbe already 

1 Harry T. that 1 learned yesterday, tar Ihe first time^ 
in Rtchmood. God bleas bim, lod yoa too^ ny 


Your friend, if ever there was one, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

ft. DODLEr. 

Km ember r 


; to all that care for me — p&rticularly t 



a mute, does not require much power, since it attracts no 
notice; and he who does not offer himself to the observation 
of mankind, may well hope to escape Iheir censure. Never- 
theless, my object now is pelere honestam demissionem, 

I refer you to Dr. B. for my adventures by flood and field. 
Mr, S. of Missouri informed me yesterday that Tom had at 
last got his gun locks, which I hope he will make turn to 
some account among the savages of Boone's Lick. They 
are all good locks, and a part of them of the highest Unish. 

I met Mrs. T. and poor Mrs. R. beyond Hanover Court 
House. These are some of the very few people in this 
world, by whom I have been treated with kindness, under 
every circumstance of my unprosperous life; and when I 
forget them, may my God forget me. B., too, has been ua- 
affectedly and disinterestedly kind to me, and I hope I have 
been able to make him some return for it. He is resolved 
to sell out, at whatever loss; and to remove from a circle in 
wliich he must share the general ruin, in case he should re- 
The mall is closing. Remember me kindly to 




JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke.^ 

Ib. Dudley. 

You mention the want of employment in your profession. 
No man ever did get practice in any profession who did not 
seek it, who did not show a strong desire for it. Now, at 
the hazard of your displeasure, I must leil you what I heard 
this summer: — One of your brethren told a gentleman of my 
acquaintance, "that you were too fond of your gun for a 
medical man." I also heard of your making an appoint- 
ment to shoot at the coal-pits, and leaving word with your 
servant that you had gone to see a patient.* This I did not 
believe: but the consequences of establishing a reputation as 
tortsman, must be serious to a medical man. 



I WISH I had it in my power to make a more nitibie » 
turn for your letten ; but my nenres are shattered, and tk 
climate is truly Cimmerian. We are more than dull here- 
we are gloomy. Last night, we lost another of our iiFfT^^*-^ 
Mr. Sloeum, of North Carolina. I hare beea meditaliiig i 
Christmas visit to Oaklandi but the weather has interposed is 
veto. Mean while, our ^ mess '' is dispersing itself to Fiuii' 
delphia, &&, leaving me, as usual, in the minority. 

Remember me to all who care for me. I need not specify 
them. Tell Gilmer that I received his letter of the IStb, a 
few minutes since, and thank him sincerely for it. Mr. T. 
and Mr. S., of New York, have read his pamphlet, and ex- 
pressed very great delight at it. He would not be di^leascd 
at the warmth with which they commend the style, the re- 
search and argument of the author, in which they heartily 
concur. It is, at present, in the hands of Mr. K., of New 

If T. be in Richmond, ask him ^<if he has forgotten me?" 
God bless you. Let me hear from you as often as conye- 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 



December 26, 1820. 
Mb. Burbill, the moat useful, if not the most able mem- 
ber of the Senate, died last night, after a few days' indisposi- 
tioD. I write from my bed. Mr. Macon advisea me to 
leave titis place as soon as practicable. There is certainly a. 
state of atmosphere here fatal lo invalids. Be so good aa to 
annouDce to the Enquirer the death of Mr. Burrill, of Rhode 

Yours, truly, • 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 


" TotJR letter of the 20lh, has lain sevi 
The difficulty of writing, produced by nalural decay, is so in- 
creased by the badness of the materials furnished by our con- 
tractors, (who make the public pay the price of the best,) that 
I dread the beginning of a letter. At this time, it requires 
my nicest management to make this pen do legible execu- 

So true is your remark, that I have tried to strike root 
into some of the people around me — one family, in particu- 
lar; but I found the soil too stony for me to penetrate, and^ 
after some abortive efforts, I gave it up — nor shall I ever re- 
new the attempt, unless some change in the inhabitants should' 
take place. 
The medical gentleman, whom you eu^^^^o'^-^sWi'*^^ 

Lzrms at 

f Wfinit liw wJ B jaa, madt At obferratioit in 
» i r hiwfcch dfe. i €«l »>eiidayed towards yoa; 

d itM^MAeri«f ihcMaedeacnpUon, who 

I do not b ei i e*« that ifaeRaark extended be- 

9 three. 

le of the best md wisest oen I erer kaew, hu oflen said 

I ihat a decayed familj caold oerer reeover its loss of 

■in (be woHd, oMil the steoiben of it left off talking and 

g opon its foraKTOpoleacc. This retnark, founded in 

d doae obaemtioo of mankind, I have seen verified, 

, in my own coanexioRs — who, to use 

it of oj onde, " will nerer thrire, until they can 

' poor IbUu:' " — he added, '^ thej may make some 

ktcs and with apparent soccess, to reeover lost ground; 

ay, iod sometimes do, get hilf war upasaini but they 

e to fall back — unless, reconciling ihemselTes to cir- 

Loces, tber become in form, as nell as in fact, poor 

i pursuit of wealth, for the sake of hoarding, is a 
' insanity. There are spirits, and not the least wor- 


their poBteriLy, if they liave any, must work or aleal, di- 

Men are like nations. One founds a family, the other sn 
empire — both deslined, sooner or later, to decay. This is the 
way in which abilily manifests itself. They who belong to 
a higher order, like Newton, and Milton, and Shakspeare, 
leave an imperishable name. I have no quarrel with such 
as are content with their original obscurity, vegetate on from 
father to son; " whose ignoble blood has crept through clod- 
poles ever since the flood " — but 1 cannot respect them. He 
who contentedly eats the bread of idleness and dependence ia 
beneath contempt. I know not why I have run out at this 
rate. Perhaps it arises from a passage in your letter. I can- 
not but think you are greatly deceived. I do not believe tha 
world to be so little clear-sighted. 

What the "covert insinuations" agaiost you, on your ar- 
rival at Richmond, were, I am at a loss to divine. I never 
heard the slightest disparagement of your moral character; 
and 1 know nobody less obnoxious to such imputations. 

When you sec the C's., present my beat wishes and re- 
membrance to them all. I had hoped to hear from Rich- 
ard. He is one of the young men about Richmond, with 
whom it is safe to associate. Noscilur S Sorio is older than 
the days of Partridge; and he who is the companion of the 
thriftless, is sure never to thrive: tavern haunters and loun- 
gers are no friends to intellectual, moral, or literary improve- 
ment, any more than to the accumulation of wealth. 

1 have seen nobody that you know but Frank K. and Gen. 
S. The last asked particularly after you. That you may 
prosper in this life, and reach eternal happiness in the life to 
come, is ray earnest prayer. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Db. Dudley. 

Remember me to F. G. and Mr. R. Is he to mu 

t^ vi-jnOBwea. mas. I Jvrc i^i£ itOKriBV-fl 

fc^ l ■ I 'J 



the wife of bis bosom, and the children of his loins, into n 
aery and waof, rather than forego the momentary gratifies- 
tion of appetite, vanity, or laziness. I have come to this con- 
clusion slowly and painfully, but certainly. Of ihe Shyloclis, 
and the smooth-viaaged men of the world, I think as I believe 
you do. Certainly, if I were to seek for the hardest of hearts, 
the most obdurate, unrelenting, and cruel, I should find ihem 
among the most selfish of mankind. And who are the most 
selfish? The usurer, the courtier, and, above all, ihe spend- 

If I press' this subject, it is because (you will pardon me) 
I have observed in you, upon it, a sort of perversion of the 
intellectual faculty; an apparent absence to what is passing 
in the world around you, and an ignorance of the events and 
characters of the day, that has caused in me I know not whe- 
Iher most of surprise or vexation. My terms are strong, 
and such as you are in no danger of hearing from Ihe sort of 
people I speak of; unless, indeed, you should happen to owe 
them money which it is not convenient to pay. Try them 
once as creditors, and you will find thai even the Shylocks, 
we wot of, are not harder. Indeed, their situation enables 
them to give the victim a sort of respite, which the others 
cannot grant. 

Ned R. writes that Mrs. R., of Obslo, cannot yet bear to 
see him, and he knows not what to do. Poor lady! if she 
had had a religious education, it would not have been so. 
He also says, that Barksdale was soused in Skinny Creek, 
on bis way from Petersburg, and had nearly perished from 

ftforry for C's. and Harry T's. mishap and loss. Has 
ft Richmond? Remember me to him, &c, t n^ed 

8 you! 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoka, 

I always glad to hear from Amelia, because I havev 


kindneis there: but those people dislike businesB^ kfe 
Amusement; and the issue need not be foretold. 


Monday Morning'^ Jan. 21, 1822. 

I HAYS just received your letter of Saturday, which I 
read with much pleasure; although I cannot think you are 
right in giving up exercise altogether. Tou know my opi- 
nion of female society. Without it we should degenerate 
into brutes. This observation applies with tenfold force to 
young men, and those who are in the prime of manhood. 
For, after a certain time of life, the literary man may make 
a shift (a poor one, I grant) to do without the society of la- 
dies. To a young man nothing is so important as a spirit of 
devotion (next to his Creator) to some virtuous and amiable 
woman^ whose image may occupy his heart, and guard it 
from the pollution which besets it on all sides. Neverthe- 
lesSy I trust that your fondness for the company of ladies 
may not rob you of the time which ought to be devoted to 
reading and meditating on your profession; and, above all, 
that it may not acquire for you the reputation of Dangler-^ 
in itself bordering on the contemptible, and seriously detri- 
mental to your professional character. A cautious old 
Squaretoes^ who might have no objection to employing such 
a one at the bar, would, perhaps, be shy of introducing him 
as a practitioner in his family, in case he should have a pret- 
ty daughter, or niece, or sister; although all experience shows 
that, of all male animals, the Dangler is the most harmless 
to the ladies, who quickly learn, with the intuitive sagacity 

*he sex, to make a convenience of him, while he serves 



The person you first refer to, always " appeared, indeed, 
very much my friend;" but it was appearance only. When 
you shall have observed as much upon the world as I have 
done, you wilt know that such eharacters are as incapable of 
friendship, or even of conceiving its idea, as poor St. George 
is of playing on the flute, or comprehending what is meant 
by the word music. I wonder his attempts on my purK 
neyer once succeeded. 

I have a letter from Ryland: he is much pleased with bin 
new position, and is, I trust, doing well. Of the "forbid- 
den fruit," I say, taste not, touch not, handle not the thing. 

God speed you. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Dr. Dudley. 

I receive letters from E,, which I believe I must get you 
to answer for me. 

aes aif^^^ 


Tuesday, Jan. 33, 183 
Dear Theodore, 

Who bought the within named stock of horses a 
asses, and at what prices? — also, the wine, and at what price? 
If I had seen the advertisement in time, I would have pur- 
chased a few dozen; but the sale was over before I saw it. 

What think you of my correction of the within? Show 
it to E,, and ask her opinion; also, if she has read Don Quix- 
otte and Gil Bias, yet— I presume, the latter, of course: but, 
of the first, she ought to procure Jarvis's translation. 

Have you suffered your French to slip through your me- 
mory? I hope no, hut I fear yes; and Latin, too. " 
upon it they ai'e better than the " insipids " you talk of, 

Rely J 
of, or 1 

mm Ike STtkof 

in tUi 






^'^i^. Jan, 25^ 182i 
VocK lelter of the dSd^ is just now reoeired, and I am gn- 
tified at ooee more getting mj horse; or, latfaery at the piw- 
pect of getting him. Too say nothing of his eondition— 
AotB, &e. I am afraid you were too much in a huny about 
him; because you know it will take Johnny two days, in the 
stage, to get to Frederickburg. Let me request you to men- 
tion his plight, when you receiTcd him. 

Is it not, in a great measure, (if not altogether,) your own 
iault, that you are without valuable standard medical authors? 
Do you remember my asking you for a list of such books, 
that I mig^t transmit it to London? It would but have di- 
minished the balance due me by \\KMe smtiiSXets,^. V. VL 


I should suppose, however, that the Richmond library would 
aSbrd you some good reading. What has become of your 
Latin and French? — the laBt, especially. 

Last night, I had the pleasure to hear Mrs. F. (whose con- 
cert I attended on Tuesday evening) sing, in a private party, 
at Mrs. O's, apartments, at Georgetown. I say Mrs. 0., al- 
though my invitation to dinner was Trom the husband — and, 
for the evening, from the daughter. She sang " There's nae 
Luck aboot the House," and some othersimpleairs, very plea* 
singly; (although Ihave heard them, frequently, better sung;) 
but I found she could not accompany herself on the piano, be- 
ing out of lime, and playing, sometimes, false notes. Never- 
theless, we had a very pleasant party; and, at half past ten, I 
mounted Wildfire, and alone, {Witch being lame — for life, I 
fear,) came home like a flash of lightning. She is very scary, 
(the word is not English, and I have no time to seek, in my 
mind, for a better,) and, at the sight of a carriage, rattling over 
the frozen road, with two glaring lamps in front, meeting her, 
put all my horsemanship in requisition. Tlie cold was, and 
is, intense. 

Tell Dr. B. I have got his letter of the 33d, but am deep 
with T,, on the bankrupt bill, and cannot write by (his 

Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

^BC' ^^"^y skilful physician, who has studied my constitution, 
going on three years, says there is no salvation for me but 
removal to another climate, and a particular course, which he 

".»L ' 



YouE letter of the 85th has just now eome in^ with mjtft 
tmfVod I find it more ezbiliitting than eFeii that nfimriiiBgb* 
venge; although I am now taking along (paamlUjp mtaH 
farewell of it My disease hu guned npoD me-M rapidly 
thai I hare just deqiatebed a note to my good fimad, Kmk 
EL, requesting a daily supply of new mOk from .M^ Bn 
dairy. To it and eraekers {bi$ emtei) lAaU^oatbrnwapM 
strietly, for at least six weeks; unless I find^ at tl]» «im| ^foM* 
third of that term^ that animal food, of a adlid kibdyia iadil> 
ptasable to me. I hara used no etlier brsad besidcf snal* 
en^ (Jamieson'Sy) heated over again,- finr some timeu./llj 
breakfast is two of these, and as many cups of tsoflbe; bfft not 
like old E^s. At dinncfi I take the l6an of roairt mutton^'or 
the breast of a turkey or pheasant, (without gravy,) and rice; 
abstaining from salted and smoke-dried meats and yegetable& 
My drink is toast and water, made by boiling the latter, and 
pouring it on highly toasted bread — so that it acquires the eo- 
lour of Cogniac brandy. I had, until the day before ye8te^ 
day, indulged in a few glasses of genuine Madeira; shunning 
all other liquors, whatsoever; — but now J have given op 
that indulgence: for my experience in 1817, proved the hurt- 
ful e£fects of stimuli, in any shape; and I now labour under 
the same form of disease. I have taken, once or Iwiee^ one 
grain of calomel, at night, and, frequently, magnesia-iandriia- 
barb. I have also used alkalies, in the form of salt of tardr 
and potashes: the latter having been recommended to me; 
although I cannot see in what it can differ from the other. 
Yesterday, I dined out with the speaker. I would hot hai;e 
gone for any other ^< dignitary '' here. I made Johnny cany 
tnf; eloth shoes, and a bottle of toast and water. The coloor 
the eompany, exeepl oufi ot V990 TL«a xofe^-^v^^nra^X 


was obliged to let into the secret, to preserve my moDopoly. 
Notwithstanding all this, I am persuaded that I wae the live- 
liest man in the whole company; and, like Falstaff, was not 
only merry myself, but the cause of mirlh in others. Mr. Se- 
cretary C, I think, will remember, for some time, some of 
my rejoinders to him, half joke and three parts earnest, (as 
Paddy says,) on the subject of the constitutional powers of 
Congress, and some other matters of minor note — although 
he tried to turn them off with great good humour. To say 
the truth, I have a sneaking liking for C, for '* by-gone's " 
sake; and if he had let alone being a great man, should have 
"lilted him hugely," as Squire Western hath it, 

I had the pleasure to pass a very pleasant evening in George- 
town, at B's., {olini C's.,) on Thursday last. I dined with 
Mr. and Mrs. 0., and Mr, K,, of New York. After dinner. 
Miss 0. had a small party of about half a dozen, exclusively 
of Mrs. F., who sang for us some Scotch airs, in a very 
pleasing style. Among others, she sang " There's nae Luck 
aboot the House " very well, and "Auld Lang Syne." Whea 
she came to the lines ^^M 

" We twa ha'e paidlet in tbe bum, ^^^H 

Frac rowDing Eun till diae," ^^^| 

I cast my mind's eye around for such a " trusty feese," and 
could light only on T,, (who, God be praised! is here,) and 
you may judge how we meet. During the time that Dr. B. 
was at Walker M's, school, (from the spring of 1784, to the 
end of 1785,) I was in Bermuda; and (although he was well 
acquainted with both my brothers) our acquaintance did not be- 
gin until nearly twenty years afterwards. Do you know that I 
am childish enough to regret this very sensibly? for, although 
I cannot detract from the esteem or regard in which I hold him, 
norlessenthevalue I set upon his friendship, yet, had I known 
him then, I think I should enjoy " Auld Lang Syne " more, 
when I hear it sung, or hum it to myself, as I often do. 

You may remember how bitter cold \\.v(as owTwitft^ivs. 

The change took place about midni^V ot Tae.a6.vj. V As^ 



I tte ioR pHt •( it wilh ay window hairted, Md fMB liM 

two O rlJf ■ OO WCOOMQ^^ MMffBII^^ MOa MOt it Ottl^B- ^*fW 

I rode fraoi Georgetown hoaie, lOer tea o'doek, friifaMtnt 
feria^ u Ifcc kHt, from tbc eoU, enept • fittk n the fii«0» 
Ttn WW aaitbcr owing to the wnrnth talanJ bf Mr. fTk 
very fm oU Madcin, oor b^ hb dwi gb to a' bewny and »• 
coapiohoHBU; slihottgh cither, I beTier^ woald btre h^ 
■P tlw neiteBKDt for a looger Ume Una H look Wildftl* " W 
^8BM"alat>g "the Avenoe." But, lopendded to the t>- 
fawet of wine, ami bexnty, aod moaic, aod good eampaBf, I 
bad a I— tbcfB "Jtuliam," as old £die would call it, (JvttM- 
au-torpi,) under mj •raitteoai — which I recoraamxl lodi 
who deaire to guard igaioM oar picrciog wioda — and dadi 
ahoea over my boots. My horrenian^ip was, indeed, pot 
into m^aiaJiioD, on mceling ■ rattling backnej eowb» wUb 
lighla, driving at a forious nte. Itwu where *■ the Avenue " 
ia crooaed by a gutter, and impeded by ice. Nercrtbeka, I 
did what Cambey * could not do with his wretched eorMm- 
die — and, as Simoat aaya, "I conteyiteneed bet with * anajh 
per." My disease, which had been very troublesome for 
aome days, and particularly that morning, and which 1 had 
checked, " for the nonce," with absorbents, recurred, with ten- 
fold violence, in the night. My aparlment is unwholeaonie- 
I' warm, in spile of all I can aafely do to veniJIate it I rise 
Ifore day, make up my fire, and, at day light, raise my win- 
tm, (unlesB Ihe " weather " drivesin,) however cold it may 
^ The slsge-CMch men return my salute every morning, 
» 1 find the air quite " caller " and refreshing. 
Jhave just got a letter from G., in Frederick burg, to whom 
wrote, .mmedia.ely on the receipt of your penultimate. It 
» dated yesterday, (,he 26th.) He writes. " Your horse was, 
' -^, ! y°"r^xpec.a,ioas, delivered here on yesterday." 
^Ch ..«, prefixed to « yesterday," i. a wretched bar^a- 
■, ol modern dale. In noptrv I k.,„ 

i but the da^ was never n^fan ■?"'" " "" ''"'''■ 

J ^s never p ut upon suits, even in blank 


T Kia groom. 


rerae.) " I had anticipated your wishes as to having him well 
shod; the shoes on him being very much worn, and one of 
them broken. He is in pretty good condition, and, I pro- 
mise you, shall not be ivorsted by remaining In my stable," &c. 

If you can, conveniently, send me the prices of the live 
stock, (a list of which I enclose you,) purchased by " Mr. 
Li." I will thank you. Return the list, or get a copy of it. 

If the carriage be actually described by J. H, [" as good as 
new, having been used only two or three times,"] and is not 
too heavy fora pair of horses, I will buy it, if it can be had on 
a reasonable profit to the coach maker who bought it. Dr. B. 
will, I am sure, be good enough to look at it with you, and 
give me his opinion about it. I want one, sur It champ, 
sooner than I can have it made, and I am on the purchase of 
a pair of boys, to replace poor old Sterling and his mate 
Steady. Spot, I fear, is irreparably ruined, by a disease, which, 
when of the worst type, is as incurable as the glanders, or farey. 
1 succeeded, you may remember, with poor old Rosetta, but 
she always carried a stiff neck; but that case was treated "se- 
cundum artem," and not in the stupid, sottish style of our 
soi-dislanl farriers. 

Show this long tirade of egotism to the doctor, and tell him 
that I suspect every hack attorney in the house is to " let off" 
a speech on the bankrupt bill; although, from the tenor of the 
conversation, yesterday, at the speaker's table, I thank Hea- 
ven, my hopes of it.'i defeat are greatly sti-engthened. 

I pray you, take to Latin and French. If I were you, I 
would learn Italian and Spanish. As I am not you, but my- 
self, I have begun the latter tongue at a more advanced age, 
than that at which the elder Cato acquired Greek. 

My love to E. You may give her yours too, if you can 
prevail upon her lo accept it. She is not " forbidden fruit." 

k Yours, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
J am proud of Mra. L's. remembrance and notice. Tell 
her so, if you please, and mention me to the C's., &c. &c., as 
you know how I wish lo be named to them. 

L B. ji kt M Ac ant 4n AntZU &ml & 

III! II -fhl Mlgrj rf^llMfl *i l—BftMlfc 




listen. But my eyes ask a holiday. I do not hear fi 
you. Bon jour. 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanokefi 

Southern mail due at 3 o'clock, A. M. Yesterday gotJ 
at 7 o'clock, P. M. Difference 16 hours in 130 miles! 



Saiurday Morning, Feb. 22, 1B2271 
I SYMPATHIZE in your distress, it is one of the painful 
circumstances incident to your profession — but what avoca- 
tion is free from them ? Instead of yielding to a morbid sen- 
sibility, we must nerve ourselves up to do and to suffer all 
that duty calls for — in other words, to do our duty in that 
station in life, "to which it has pleased God to call us." 
What, then, are we to expect from a generation that has been 
taught to cherish this not " fair defect " of our perverted na- 
ture; to nourish and cultivate, as "amiable and attractive,"' 
what, at the bottom, is neither more nor less than the grossest 
Bclfiahness, a little disguised under the romantic epithet of 
"sensibility!" This cant (worse than that of "criticism") 
has been fashionable since the days of Sterne, a hard-hearted, 
imprincipled man; a cassocked libertine and "free thinker;" 
who introduced it. Heaven be praised! it is now on ihe de- 
cline; and, in a little time, we may consider it, I hope, as en- 
iiTB]y passie. Sheridan, himself, a bad principled man, gave 
it a home blow, in the form of " sentiment!" in his very wit- 
ty, but immoral comedy, || 
Yesterday, (or " on yesterday," as "it is said" here,) I | 
dined out; and, although I carried toT, xaNlUCT , "i^wv'i *i'-'^ 
my feo((tes of toast and water, BLTvi m\\V,\ 'N'*^'''^'^'*''*^"^'*^, 

I trust Mrs. B. is not on f '/twsA wretched one, wid tc 

best cfciwrj to her. Iiim ^.I'iggrmted. Iwill,howev«I \ 
the lerminaUon of hii wM ^ ,>«^» a' '«^ ^^*«^» ^ ^^^ "[ 
on her restoraUon to the Z^^''"® *^ "^'^ ^^"^ ^'''°^' ^* 

" cynomrt, - > ?*^ '^^^ '''^''"' ""^ ' ^""^ ^"^ "^^ 

^* '^fij self-denial. Every other stroq 

^A^J^jtelutely distasteful to me, andl 

y^-'^V ^ ^^^ Nature's indications ought, 

^ ' • j7oftcner attended to. Dr. B's. opinion 

f^^y^jed jesterday. Mr. Speaker B. , with the 

' /^,^ world, set off wrong foot foremost, ani 

^^^iijgS) could not change his feet in a Iod; 

^^^^or he made, as his brother Jemmy wooU 


Q //^ motion to amend R's., by striking out 42 

yesterdr i^ CA ^*®* finally, was disposed of by R., who 

conditi' /^^ motion. Then came another, " That after the 

consid 0:«>%,ff propounded by the chair, and before the clerk 

man ? ^f"^ ^^ ^® member at the head of the column had an- 

plele' i»[2*bate was precluded!" in the teeth of common 

Mod ^*^'hi« own interrogatory, always made, 1[" if the house 

man ^^^ior the question? the clerk will proceed to call/'; 

his •'^jie invariable practice of the body, from the time of 

me ^V^piration. Out of this, however, he was extricated by 

bu '^ ^jp|«sentation of some of his friends, in deference to 

re \^ IfiOg^ experience, he waived his own judgment— but 

b ^& of ^^ •' ^f^^r the debate had gone on, made the point 

^.because it answered his purpose, and he was entirely 

^^^of the speaker's feelings and situation. Insinuations 

^ thrown out, too, bj^ some, " of his too great pliability to 

^ihey terme^i side-bar counsel;'' (the Bowlings cannot 

^Ihe pettifogger:) perhaps, too, S. of W., seeing our reluc- 

^ to appeal, thought we should submit in silence- Be that 

^iimtyi the speaker reaffirmed his former opinion, and an 

^^ WM taken, by M, , oi N ettnoivx., ^tvei^ie.. , ^^ ^^xViw^v 



rolina, and the decision rereried bjr more than two to oi 
It was to boljter up this opinion, that he, estra-judicially, 
made another decision, the counterpart to V'a. Taraous inter- 
pretation of the sense of the previous question, where tww 
meant any indefinite future time, and on which I not only 
obtained the laugh upon him, but he could hnd but eight or 
ten to support him, in a very full house.* I likeB., because 
he is a friend to the strict construction of the constitution; 
and I wanted to adjourn, for his sake — which, at last, we car* 
ried, about dark, {re infecta,) and he was released from his 
embarrassments. This long sitting in the air operated on my 
stomach as nauseating doses of antimoniala would have done, 
•ndlfelt as if I were about to be "abolisiied,, quite." At the 
dose of the day, your letter arrived. The southern mails are 
now very irregular. Even the northern is not always punc- 
tual. There is a line road now from this place to Baltimore, 
but they have let the bridge, over the Patuxenl, get out of 
repair, as it is seldom past fording, and the ice has, on one 
occasion, stopped the coach. 

Tell E. that among some Yankee names, in a late Boston 
paper, I came across "Miss Sybil Dow, married to Mr. Cy- 
i-ua Bump." Pray keep this name " for use," as Mrs. G. 
hath it. 

iw this letter to Dr. B., and to no one else. 
Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Dr. DuDLiDr. 

If Wm. L. comes to Richmond, let me know immediately 
on his arrival. 

" My Lord Chancellor Bacon is lately dead, of a long and 
languishing weakness. He died so poor that he scarce left 
money to bury him, which, though he had a great wit, did 
argue no great wisdom — it being one of the properties of a 

' The wme menii>ers, however, pravoked by G's. folly, and want of de- 
cency, revcraed their own dcci«oii, before the end of Uie session. 

nam it 




di 4 
I ^ 

I MArm been opfioeefaalf 
^ leddent with Mr. K« at the UnioD in 
y^egb I hjd tooit and water, I ihimhI mj waSk, I dnrii^ 
at the eameat recommeodatiofi of mne of the pvtpv 
old Port wine,* which has done me do good. Mj 
waa the lean of a yery fine haooeh of ¥«iifloo, witk- 
aDy fpniry, and a little riee. Sioee it begui to nia 
l^out an hotir ago) I have felt as restleaa as a leech in a 
^aether glassy and so I sit down to write to yoo. Oo Sator- 
^ I had a narrow escape from a most painfol denth. Wild- 
dashed off with j^ on the avenae, alarmed at a tattered 
n-corer, sbireriog in the wind, and would lup^ 
both to pieces against an Italian poplar; but when 
ing full butt against it, and not a length oS, by a violent 
ion of the left heel and right hand I bore her oC There 
aoi the thickness of the half quire of paper on whidi I 



am wrilitig between my body and the tree. Had I woi 
great-coat, or dolh boots, I must have touched — perhaps 
been dragged ofT by Ihem: and had I been without spurs, I 
must have lost my life; for the centre of her forehead and 
that of the body of the tree, nearly, or quite two feet in di- 
ameter, were approaching to contact. You know my great 
liking for this exotic, which our tasteless people have aluck 
every where about them. I shall, hereafter, dislike it more 
than ever. In the course of my life I have encountered 
some risks, but nothing like this. My heart was in my 
mouth for a moment, and I felt the strongest convictions of 
ray ulter demerit in the sight of God, and my heart gushed 
out in thankfulness for his signal and providential preserva- 
tion. What, thought I, would have been my condition had 
I then died. "As the tree falls, so it must lie." And I had 
been but a short time before saying to a man, who tried to 
cheat me, some very hard and bitter things. It was a poor 
auctioneer, who had books on private sale. He attempted to 
impose upon me in respect to some classical books of which 
he was entirely ignorant, and I exposed his ignorance to the 
people in the shop, many of whom were members of Con- 
gress, and no better informed than him. The danger that I 
escaped was no injury to the speech which I made out of 
breath, on finding, when I reached the house, that there was 
a call for the previous question. So true is it, that of all 
motives, religious feeling is the most powerful. 

I am reading, for the second time, an admirable novel 
c&lled " Marriage," It is commended by the great unknown 
in his "Legend of Montrose." I wish you would read it. 
Perhaps it might serve to palliate some of your romantic 
notions (for I despair of a cure) on the subject of love and 
marriage. A man who marries a woman that he docs not 
esteem and treat kindly, is a villain: but marriage wafi made 
for man; and if the woman be good- tempered, healthy, (a 
qualification scarcely thought of now-a-days, all-important 
as it is,) chaste, cleanly, economical, and not an absolute fool, 
she will mike him a better wife than nine out often deserve 



toMvt. Tobft 

la added, ■!) the better. Neither would I 
good fortune, If it has produced uo ill eSect o 
knre caae. 

I was in hopes you would not let G. cany off E. &oa 
you. That you may soon possess her, or some other &ir 
lady, is my earnest wish. The cock crowa for day, I aiff 
pose; but it is yet dark, and I wish you good morning. 
Txoish'd at the crowing of the cock." Show this to Dr. B. 

► Yours, truly, 

JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 
Dr. Dudlev. 

Your letter of the 2d is juat received. I will not, nevet- 
theless, cancel this, ivbich I must dose to save Ih^ nnsL 

^^^f I HAVE seldom, if ever, received a letter from you that 
gratified me more than that of yesrerday, which I had bare- 
ly time to acknowledge in two lines of postscript Your 
medical advice is very thankfully received, and will be fol- 
lowed, (I shall first give the milk a fair trial,) so far as my 
own experience does not run counter to it. Your reluctance 
hitherto towards giving it, has more than once been noted 
by me, and ascribed to its real cause. I have found, howe- 
ver, a valuable counsellor in our kinsman. Dr. Hall, for such 
i his great grandfather, on the mother's side, being Ro- 
Hrt Boiling, brother to Drury Boiling, my maternal great 
Ifather^ from whom you are removed one generation fiu- 


Wiuhingion, TuetJay, IW. 5^ VcBS. 



bt; which Drury and RoSert were sons of Robert B., {of 
the West Riding of York, Boiling Hall, near Bradford,) by 

his second wife, Miaa Slith; (his first being the grand-daugh- 
ter of Pocahontas, by whom he had one son, John, from 
whom, by his wife, Mary Kennon, my paternal grandmother 
sprang.) From this first marriage, descend the Boilings of 
Chesterfield and Buckingham, in the male line; and the 
Curies Randolphs, Flemings, Gays, Eldridges, and Murrays, 
in the female. 

As I have recommended "Marriage" to you, (the book, 
I mean,) this digression on genealogy, and, perhaps, some 
other coincidences, may remind you of the " very sensible 
JMiss Jacky," and her agreeable sisters. You entirely mis- 
take my mode of life: I am very rarely out of bed at nine, 
and when I exceed that hour, it is not at " evening parties." 
I have been at several, bat rarely failed to be at home before 
nine. Last night I was seduced, by a book, to go beyond 
that hour, a little. Do you suppose (requiring so much rest 
as I do) that I could rise every morning before the dawn, If 
I sat (or, as the V. P. says, " sol," most " unhappily,") up 
!ate at night? The other day I dined at the French minis- 
ter's. It was Saturday; " Mrs. De N's. night." At half 
past seven we joined the evening visiters, and at half past 
eight I was snug in bed. To be sure, I was politely re- 
proached, as I was going away, by the Count de Menou, (se- 
cretary of the legation,) whom I met on the staircase, and 
since by his principal, for going away so early; but my plea 
of weak health satisfied their jealousy. This is felt, and 
shown, too, by all here, in the highest ranks of fashion. The 
De N's., however, are good people. Madame is charity it- 
self. The poor will misa her when she goes away. One of 
her sayings deserves to be written in letters of gold; " When 
the rich are sick, they ought to be starved; but when the 
poor are sick, they should be well fed." This is no bad me- 
dical precept. 

1 cannot " go " the " Cogniac." I had rather die, than 
tlrink, habitually, brandy aud water. Look around you, and 



il.m.|» T1i..kG<id,i^««ii;^««««ii^dii» 
teflM. I lMf« mnedmti been ^ iMttiT te t Ulii 
fcroiy Inifcl J, hit I him mtt hrtirril iptritf ffrrr tiT Trutr* it 
I and nefw lUl aguDy bat «• medicuw. 0«MiiMMa* 
if Uw only thingt ooceapl good water, thot I aaa drink 
with plaaauro^ or impunity: not alwaya with the laat; ioow* 
tiBMawithnailhflr. It waa Ihe paari anhMUhaf I waa odfhri 
to naa by Mr. CoMoiu It i% I bAvo, a refined potuk I 
knew ita eanatic oulity, which the adt of tarter alao poi* 
eaaaaa in a krib. dagvoe. I anbatitate a weak aokition of it 
(aait of tartar) for the ehareoal punejai^ in deaDing my taeO^ 
Tlie pearl aAaa I gave np at firat triaL .^i^ 

Bdy open it^ that to love a woman aa <<a mKoiaj^d- 
thoo^ a ddieiotta'dpluimo, an int ox i c ati o a tii lP »i»Mt"l 
that of Champagne ia altogilhar 4Hpeotid9!Sby, perm- 
^im^tk ^^eheiee of a^wiTeiiin^ to tA 

about in Ma adhar aenaaa-^h^litaauifc Werm aa Blidr Primms 
did her wedding*gown, for qualities that <' wear ¥^U.'' I 
am well perauaded, that few loTe-matchea are happy oiie& 
One thingi at leaat^ ia true, that if matrimony has ita cares, 
eelibacy baa no pleasures. A Newton, or a mere achohri 
flftay find employment in study : a man of literary taste can 
leeeiye in booka a powerful auxiliary; but a man must bafe 
a boaom friend, and children around him, to cberish and sap- 
port the dreariness of old age. Do you remember A. V.? 
He could neither read nor think; any wife, even a scolding 
one, would haye been a blessing to that poor man. Afler all; 
<< aaitability '^ ia the true foundation for marriage. If the 
parties be suited to one another, in age, situation in life, (a 
man, indeed, may descend, where all else is fitting,) temper, 
and constitution, these are the ingredients of a happy mar- 
riage—or, at least, a convenient one — ^which is all that peo- 
ple of experience expect I will not quote Rochefoucault, 
or S. Johnaon, in aupport of this; and yet I cannot refrain 

* I have not uaed half a pint, aiiice I cannot tdl when—nx months at 

§1 Monday, Feb. II, 182i 

^^TThe southern mall is late to-day; iL ia half past two, and 
3n)ur letter, enclosed herein, is just received. I must re- 
quest that my last to you be aot put out df your possession. 
So much of it as ia extracted from that to Mrs. Crocket, 
which I dcclinw^loynd, you can extract and send her, but 
no monj. It isAtrkcd, I think, with inverted commas. Or, 
if you enclose it to me, 1 will make'lhe proper extract, and 
send it to you, together with the letter itself — I mean mine 
to you. 
• That to which I reCBrreil, as having been wrjMpn on liie 
same niom^^lhai^e recovered, and i^tain. ^ 
\J\ffl ferv ^oTM^ learfi (hat H.A» so ^riously indisposed. 
I, fear she will go the iVay or i(er poor sister. My love lo 
her, when you see hen I «m myself worn dovfo, and have 
suffered unutterably during the last twenty hours. Adieu! 
JOHN RANDOLPH, of Roanoke. 

Dr. Dodlev. 

. 4ft 



«■ > 

Page 57, £fi« 3, for *<8hoi7tening^" read shooiing. 
« 73, « 7, for « flash," read /Wfe. 
«< 79, << 23, for << Staunton," read /Sifefiion. 
« 81, << 11, fiom bottom, for <<tente," read ienie. 
M 109, << 6, for << cases," read core*. 
« 190, ** ll,for<<Torbisond,"read7W&M0fMf. 

v.- V \ 

3 HDS DID l""""' 






(415) 723-1493 

All books may be recoiled aflet 7 doys 




JAN 3 gl05